Evermore
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: In four chapters. 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. A kidnap attempt on Vincent the alien computer results in him being stranded in the mountains and running across a surprise ally. Down below, Baxter, Barney, and the Turtles try to piece together what happened in the midst of a horrifying discovery that leaves them unsure if Vincent survived the car crash.
1. Chapter 1

**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **Evermore**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! This was inspired by, of all things, a slightly tweaked version of the song** _ **Evermore**_ **from the recent** _ **Beauty and the Beast**_ **film. (It makes sense in context.) ThickerThanLove helped with various plot twists. This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.**

"There." Barney sighed as the desktop computer flashed a message at him and Vincent that the file copying was done. He undid the ends of the cables running into the desktop computer.

Vincent pulled out the ends that were in the laptop. "I'm glad you agreed to let us try this, Barney," he said. "I really think it's a good thing to have a back-up of my systems and my memories."

"I still say it won't be you." Barney clicked through the file list on the desktop computer's screen. "What happens if I try opening one of these?"

Vincent shrugged. "Let's find out."

Barney scrolled through the list. "Can you identify what all of these are from the filenames?"

"Of course," Vincent said. "I named them all."

Baxter wandered to the doorway. "What's going on?" he asked curiously.

"We finished making the back-up of Vincent's systems and memories," Barney said. "We were going to see what happens if we click one."

Baxter came over to look as Vincent selected one. The computer's media player booted up and loaded a video file.

 _"Hello, Z,"_ said an alien male as he bent forward into the screen. _"We're just about to launch our maiden voyage. How do you feel?"_

 _"Curious,"_ Vincent replied in the video. _"Excited. I've never seen outer space before."_

 _"Well, we're all going to see a lot of it now."_ The alien straightened and walked away. The clip ended.

Baxter looked to Vincent. "That's fascinating," he said in amazement. "But how are we hearing it in English?"

"I translated," Vincent said. "My memories wouldn't do either of you any good if they were in my native tongue. But I kept them calling me Z because that was how my name was pronounced in their language. I don't think of myself as that anymore, but I was Z then."

"You also don't think of it as your language anymore," Barney observed.

"No, I don't," Vincent agreed. "They wanted nothing to do with me; why should I want anything to do with them or their language? It's of little use to me now unless another spaceship comes here and I need to translate the hieroglyphs for you."

Baxter laid a hand on Vincent's shoulder. He could certainly understand Vincent's rejection of his culture after being so deeply hurt. He was sure Barney did as well.

"What are these?" Barney pointed to a row of audio files.

Vincent cringed. "I don't think you want to click those."

Baxter flinched. "Only audio. . . . Oh. Are they memories of when I was a fly creature, after you were hurt at Channel 6?"

"Yes," Vincent confirmed.

"We could play every single moment you had with Baxter?" Barney said, stunned. "And me?"

"Naturally. I didn't withhold anything." Vincent folded his arms on the edge of the table.

"These are priceless treasures," Baxter said softly. "But . . . doesn't this back-up talk and interact with people, as you do?"

"Yes and no," Vincent said. "As you said, Barney, it's not exactly like me. It is, but it isn't. I thought it would be too strange and confusing if the back-up was always 'on,' like me, so I modified that function for it."

Barney grunted. "We've got the real thing here. We don't need to examine that."

"I should tell you how to activate it, though," Vincent said. He scrolled through the list and pointed to an .EXE file. "This one."

Barney nodded. "We'll remember." He moved to shut down the computer. "Right now we'd better get going. We all have places we need to be."

Baxter watched as Barney got into the hard drive and removed the motherboard, which he placed amid soft padding in a strongbox. He closed and locked it before carrying it to a locker at the far corner of his laboratory and setting it on the top shelf.

"You're taking a lot of precautions," Baxter remarked as Barney shut the locker and locked it.

"It's only to be used in case of emergency," Barney said. "I don't want it left out in the open."

Baxter nodded. "Well, I should be getting to work." He smiled at his brothers. "I'll see you both later."

"Goodbye," Barney said.

"Goodbye, Baxter," Vincent chirped.

Baxter took out his car keys as he headed out of the room. This time he had brought his car with him, having come over for breakfast before work. It had gone well, and he hoped for more occasions like that in the future. Any time spent with Barney and Vincent was happy for him.

"We need to get going too," Barney said.

He had just stepped into the hall when the telephone rang. Frowning, he went over and picked it up. Before he could so much as say Hello, a gruff and unfamiliar voice spoke to him.

"Barney Stockman?"

"That's right," Barney frowned. "Who is this?"

"Nevermind," said the voice. "Two of your students are being held hostage in your classroom at the university. If you want to free them, you'll have to come alone. No computer brother, no police. Just you."

Barney went stiff. "What is the meaning of this?!" he snapped. Next to him, he sensed Vincent's bewilderment and anger as the computer overheard the other side of the conversation.

"Don't ask questions. Just come. Now." The phone went dead.

"Barney, what's going on?!" Vincent exclaimed.

"I have no idea." Barney stormed into the living room and grabbed the car keys off the rack. "I'll have to do as they say. But I want you to call a cab and follow me. I don't trust anyone who tells me to go somewhere alone."

"Barney . . ." Vincent trailed after him. "The last time someone told you to go somewhere alone, it was when Pinky McFingers abducted Michelangelo to try to force you to work for him. Could it be something like that again?"

Barney paused. "That's possible," he said, "but I don't know why they'd go straight to the abducting without talking to me first." He opened the door. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Vincent sighed. "Alright. Be careful, Buddy."

Barney stepped onto the porch and looked back to him. "I will be," he said. "Do you have money for the cab?"

Vincent pulled some bills out of his pocket. "Right here."

"Good." Barney hurried down the stairs and over to the Cadillac.

Vincent didn't stay to watch Barney drive off. He hurried back into the house to phone a cab.

xxxx

Barney drove as fast as he could without breaking the speed limit. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over. With his luck, someone was probably watching his every move. They might suspect him of speeding on purpose just so he could talk to a police officer.

He arrived at the university and pulled into the space reserved for him. But when he hurried inside to his classroom, he only found several bewildered students sitting at their desks.

"Hey, Professor," Andrew blinked. "Where's Vincent?"

Barney stopped and stared at the kids. "You're all alright?" he demanded. "No one is holding you hostage?!"

The students exchanged baffled looks. "No, Dr. Stockman," Diane said then. "Why?"

Barney turned away, half-in and half-out of the doorway. "Something isn't right," he said, mostly to himself.

Suddenly he bolted for the lobby. If this had all been a ploy, then the only other possibility was that someone had wanted to separate him and Vincent. It had to be Vincent who was in danger, not his students. He had to get to a computer and send a message to warn him.

xxxx

Vincent had deemed it fortunate that a cab had been in the neighborhood and arrived within five minutes. He was prepared for the cabbie to be stunned and weirded out by a living computer wanting a lift, but the man showed no indication that he was particularly rattled by the appearance of his passenger. Instead he just gestured behind him at the backseat. "Get in."

Vincent hauled the door open and climbed in, giving the cabbie the address as he did. Since the driver didn't appear surprised by him at all, Vincent in turn didn't offer anything about himself. He was a sociable being, but not when Barney was in trouble and needed his help.

It didn't long to realize that the cabbie wasn't going to the university. Instead, he was taking a route leading out of town and towards the mountains.

"What are you doing?" Vincent demanded.

"We're takin' a little detour," was the bored reply.

"This isn't a 'little detour,'" Vincent snapped. "At this rate, we'll only end up at the university long after nightfall!" He held up a hand, visible in the rear-view mirror, and let electricity crackle in it for a moment. "You had better do as you're supposed to if you know what's good for you."

"Relax. It's not like you can really shock me," the cabbie countered. "Then who'd steer this thing?"

"Oh, that's no problem." Vincent pressed a few buttons on the laptop and suddenly the steering wheel was turning without the driver's permission. "I can literally be a backseat driver. I'm taking us back to the city."

The cabbie yelped. "They didn't warn me about this!" he cried. His hands flew off the wheel and he watched, aghast, as the cab started to make a U-Turn right there on the currently empty road.

"Who's 'they'?" Vincent demanded.

"Big Louie," the cabbie gulped.

"Oh?" Vincent let the cab gather speed, just enough to make the driver nervous. "Why?"

"He wanted to know what made you tick!" The driver covered his eyes with his hands. "What the heck, you're gonna get us both killed!"

"I'm a very skilled driver," Vincent replied.

Neither of them were expecting a second car to come up the road, with the passenger leaning out to fire at the cab.

"It's Big Louie's men!" the cabbie wailed. "Now what are you gonna do?!"

"They won't risk hitting me, but they might try to run us off the road," Vincent told him. Again he turned the car around and sped towards the mountains. "Where were you going to take me?"

"To a cabin way back in there," the cabbie told him.

"Well, I have no intention of going." Vincent steered the car up the mountain road and around a curve. Before the second car could catch up, he turned off the road to travel through the woods.

"Are you nuts or something?!" the cabbie wailed.

"I'm nuts about my freedom," Vincent said smoothly.

The cab bounced along through the grass and dirt, rolling over pine cones and small rocks. For the moment they seemed to be safe; the crooks hadn't realized they had turned off the road. But as they traveled farther and deeper into the woods, the cabbie suddenly got back his spark.

"Hey, I'm liable for any damage to this thing!" he yelled, grabbing hold of the steering wheel.

Vincent clenched his teeth. Now it was a tug-of-war between them. "Someone willing to abduct an innocent computer should be prepared to face the consequences," he retorted. "Let me have control or you're going to get us in a wreck!"

"Creepy computer!" the cabbie retorted. "I didn't bargain for any of this!" Finally he wrenched control of the steering wheel away from Vincent and swerved the cab violently to the right.

"No, you fool!" Vincent exclaimed. "I brought up a map of this entire area. You've put us right next to a . . ."

The cabbie shrieked as the cliff loomed ahead of them. He opened the door, flying out onto the grass.

Vincent had no choice but to bail out as well. He sprang out of the car and tumbled down a hill, rolling over and over through the grass and leftover autumn leaves. Right before he hit the bottom and blacked out, he heard the cab crash and explode.

xxxx

Barney was beside himself with panic. Vincent should have arrived long ago if he had found a legitimate ride. Barney had sent more than one email, desperate for a reply, but there had only been silence. Checking with the neighbors had finally resulted in one of them remembering what cab company the taxi had come from, but calling the company had resulted in very unhelpful information. The cab was still out with Vincent, as far as the dispatch office knew, but it wouldn't respond to the radio.

By now the students were worried too. Barney never cancelled a class unless there were extremely extenuating circumstances. He had taught more than one class while recovering from some disaster or another. But Vincent missing left him completely unable to concentrate and the students encouraged him just to focus on finding his best friend.

Barney was grateful. He had a good class, he thought to himself as he dialed Baxter's cellphone. They appreciated both him and Vincent, rather than just seeing them as the means to achieve college credit in a difficult course.

"Barney?" Baxter sounded confused when he answered. "Is something wrong? I thought you'd be teaching the morning class right now."

"I can't teach it today," Barney growled. "You're right, something is very wrong." He quickly proceeded to explain, while Baxter listened and gasped in horrified alarm.

"Barney, what are you going to do?!" he exclaimed.

"I need to find out from the telephone company where that mysterious call came from," Barney growled. "The only thing on the caller I.D. is 'Pay Phone.' Chances are it won't really help to know the location; this was all carefully planned down to the last detail. But it's the only clue I have."

Baxter was silent, thinking. "Another thing we could try is getting out a map and figuring out the most likely routes the driver could have taken." He started typing on his work computer. "I'm going to do that right now. And I'll let the Turtles know what's going on. They may be able to help."

"We need all the help we can get," Barney growled. "You do that. I'm going to see if I can get the phone company to be of any use." And he hung up without saying Goodbye.

Baxter didn't mind. After all, they were both just so worried about Vincent. And, Baxter was afraid, Barney was probably blaming himself for what had happened.

The first thing he did was to attempt sending an email. Barney had no doubt already tried, but Baxter felt he needed to try as well.

 _Vincent, are you alright?!_

 _Baxter_

He resisted the urge to say "Please answer." Of course Vincent would if he could.

He bit his lip as he turned back to his computer and calculated routes. The most likely looked like a path into the mountains. He got up from his desk, taking out his Turtle-Comm as he headed for the door.

"Hey, Baxter Dude," Michelangelo greeted. "What's up?"

"Trouble," Baxter told him. "Poor Vincent is missing and it looks like someone deliberately separated him and Barney to get at him!"

"No way!" Michelangelo gasped. "Who would do that?!"

"I don't know!" Baxter moaned. "Pinky McFingers is still in jail and it doesn't sound like Shredder and Krang's style. But I'm tentatively calculating that the taxi cab Vincent took may have detoured towards the mountains."

"Oh yeah?" Michelangelo sounded strange.

Baxter didn't like that tone of voice at all. "What is it, Michelangelo?" he asked. His stomach was knotting even without knowing.

"Well, it's probably nothing, but we just heard on the news that April was up in the Channel 6 helicopter and she saw what looked like a crashed car burning at the bottom of a cliff. . . ." From Michelangelo's face and voice, he clearly didn't want to be telling this. But at the same time, he realized Baxter needed to know.

Baxter felt light-headed. He stumbled into the wall. "W-What?!" he choked out.

"Hey, I'm sure it's nothing to do with Vincent!" Michelangelo tried to say. "Look, we'll all come out there and pick you up and we'll go out and look for Vincent. Okay?"

Baxter managed a nod. "Thank you, Michelangelo." He really wanted to leave right now, but he wondered if he was in any condition to drive. Then it suddenly occurred to him that he had a far worse task ahead of him than waiting for his friends to pick him up.

He had to contact Barney and tell him about the wrecked car.

xxxx

Vincent groaned, holding a hand to the top of the laptop as he rose up from the pile of leftover autumn leaves. He knew about the organic phenomenon of ringing in the ears, but he hadn't known that there was a computer equivalent until now. When he had been forced to jump from the plummeting taxi and down the hill, he had apparently jolted himself unconscious from the impact. Now he was waking up and there was no Internet signal, no way to let Barney or Baxter know where he was and that he needed help.

And a child was staring down at him.

"Are you okay?"

He jumped a mile before turning to look at said child. A blond boy, perhaps around eleven, with a turtle shell backpack. . . . No, the shell was tied over the backpack. . . .

"Yes," he said slowly. "I saw your picture in the Ninja Turtles' scrapbook. . . ."

The boy's eyes went wide. "You've seen the scrapbook?! They don't show it to just anybody, you know."

"I know." Vincent drew up his knees and laid his arms on them. "They invited me and my brothers to see it. You're the . . . fifth Turtle. Zach?"

"Yeah!" Zach plopped down next to him. "So . . . who are you?"

"Vincent." He studied the kid. "You don't wonder why a computer has a body?"

"If you know the Turtles, you're probably one of Donatello's inventions, right?" Zach chirped.

Vincent rubbed the back of his neck. "No, I'm not." But then he frowned. He needed to get home, somehow. And the Turtles obviously put a great deal of trust in Zach, to name him the fifth Turtle. Getting the boy on his side would probably be a wise move. Telling him the truth might hinder rather than help. But it was too late now.

"You're not?" Zach looked confused as well as disappointed.

"I'm an alien computer," Vincent explained. "My body is made of solid energy."

"Oh, you use one of that Mellish guy's solid energy generators," Zach said.

"No . . . I use a process invented by Dr. Barney Stockman," Vincent said.

"Oh." Zach frowned and looked down at the ground.

Vincent didn't like where this was going. "You don't like him?"

Zach shrugged. "I don't even know him. I just know that he and his brother are real chummy with the Turtles these days." He sighed. "I haven't seen much of them in ages."

"Surely you don't blame that on Baxter and Barney," Vincent frowned.

"Nah. . . . But I feel kind of sad anyway," Zach said. "They never check in with me. They're always too busy with their new friends."

"They checked in with you before?" Vincent pointedly asked.

Zach cringed. "No. . . . And I'm not supposed to contact them on the Turtle-Comm unless it's an emergency. Sometimes I kind of wonder if they just gave it to me to humor me."

"They told me you were welcome to visit any time," Vincent said.

"I've been busy with school and after-school stuff," Zach sighed. "My parents want to keep me busy. I think they're hoping I'll make some human friends."

"Would that be so terrible?" Vincent wondered.

Another shrug. "I have Caitlyn. I don't know why I need more human friends. The Turtles are great."

"But they are also very busy, as you pointed out," Vincent said. "There have been a lot of criminals trying to conquer the world lately."

"There always are.

"So, what were you doing jumping out of that cab and rolling down that hill?" Zach wanted to know.

"If you can believe it, that taxi driver was trying to abduct me," Vincent said. "He behaved foolishly and I had to get out before the cab went over a cliff. Now I don't know how to get home. There's no Internet up here; I can't contact Baxter and Barney for help."

"I can take you home," Zach said.

"You can?" Hope came into Vincent's eyes.

"But um, I can't leave yet, unless I sneak off," Zach said. "I'm up here with a Scout troup."

Vincent felt like groaning. "For how long?"

"A few days," Zach said sheepishly.

"Isn't there a radio or some form of communication at your campsite?" Vincent pleaded.

"Sure," Zach said. "But it's with the Scoutmaster. If any of us want to use it, we have to have a pretty darn good reason."

"I need to get home," Vincent exclaimed. "My brothers are going to be worried about me. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"I sure think so," Zach said, "but I don't know what he'll think. And . . . wait, your brothers?!"

"Baxter and Barney," Vincent said.

"They really think of you that way?" Zach blinked. "That's awesome."

"I think of them that way in turn," Vincent said. "I'm fairly well-accepted in the city; I help Barney teach and I've been on the news occasionally. Your Scoutmaster may have seen me there. And even if he hasn't, won't he have enough compassion to let me use the radio for five minutes?!"

"I hope so," Zach said. "We can try." He stood. "Can you get up?"

Vincent wobbled but got to his feet. Zach took his hand.

". . . What if he won't let either of us use it?" Vincent asked.

"Then I'll try to sneak out with you," Zach said. "My Turtle-Comm doesn't work up here, but maybe if we go farther down the mountain I'll be able to get a signal."

"I don't want you to get in any trouble because of me," Vincent frowned.

"Hey, it's like you said: I'm the fifth Turtle!" Zach retorted. "And the fifth Turtle has to take risks to help anyone who needs it!"

Vincent finally smiled a bit. Zach really took this fifth Turtle thing seriously. And the Turtles wouldn't have made Zach an honorary part of the team if he wasn't able to handle the occasional mission.

"Alright," he said then. "Let's just see what happens and take what comes."

Unfortunately, as they started to walk, "what came" was the criminals from the second car. "Hey, look!" one said to the other. "There's that walking computer now! And he's got a brat with him!"

Zach turned and glowered at the thugs. "I'll have you know I'm the fifth Ninja Turtle!" he cried.

"Nevermind!" Vincent exclaimed. He shot a burst of electricity at the crooks and grabbed Zach's wrist, fleeing into the trees and brush.

"Aww, we could've taken them!" Zach protested.

"They have guns," Vincent said harshly. "Have the Turtles ever let you fight criminals with guns?"

"I've taken on Bebop and Rocksteady and their blasters!" Zach boasted.

"These guns have bullets," Vincent said. "Do you know what it's like to be shot?"

"Well, no," Zach said slowly.

"I don't want to be responsible for that happening to you," Vincent said. He paused, listening. The thugs were crashing through the bushes behind them. "Nevermind about taking me back to the city. I'll find my own way there."

"They've seen us together now," Zach retorted. "If we get separated, they might just go after me thinking they'll get at you that way! Or what if they follow me back to the campsite and the whole troop gets in danger?!"

Vincent stiffened. He hated to admit it, but the boy had a valid point.

A bullet sailed past overhead and struck a tree branch. It fell down right in their path.

"This way!" Zach cried, grabbing Vincent's wrist now. He pulled the computer through a complicated series of bushes and trees as the men continued to give chase. But by the time they emerged into a clearing, they were alone. "I knew that'd lose them!" the kid grinned.

"That's great, but where are we now?" Vincent frowned.

"Well . . . unfortunately, we're not too close to the campsite anymore," Zach sheepishly admitted. "We're on the other side of the mountain. But we're close to one of my favorite spots that I like to come to when I want to be alone."

Thunder boomed above them and Vincent flinched. "I can't be out in a heavy rainstorm," he exclaimed. "Do you have a solution for that, too?"

"Sure!" Zach tugged on his wrist. "The place where I like to go is a cave."

"An empty cave, I hope," Vincent shot back.

"Of course!" Zach guided him around to a series of rock steps leading up to said cave. "We'll be safe and dry in here. And when I don't come back soon, they'll start looking for me."

"Does anyone else know you like this cave?" Vincent asked. He cringed as the thunder came again, louder this time. He scrambled up the steps in mounting alarm.

". . . No," Zach slowly admitted. "Come on, get inside!"

Vincent practically leaped into the cave as the sky split and sheets of rain poured down. He moved back as far as he could go. "At least those strongarms are going to get wet," he smirked.

Zach laughed. "Yeah!" He regarded his new companion with curiosity. "Are they after you because you're an alien computer?"

"I think that's part of it," Vincent said.

"How'd you end up on Earth anyway?" Zach wondered.

"That," Vincent said, "is a long story."

"Well," Zach shrugged, "I'm pretty sure we've got plenty of time."

xxxx

Barney's heart and stomach had decided to take up gymnastics in the time it took Baxter to reach him and deliver the horrible news about the crashed car. April was on the ground with it by now, and she had to sadly confirm that it was a taxi cab.

It was probably only Barney's insistent determination to prove that it was not the cab Vincent had taken that kept him from crashing himself on the way to the accident site. His thoughts were doing horrible somersaults. It couldn't be the cab Vincent had been in. And even if it was, he had surely gotten out. Vincent was resourceful. When Barney could get there, Vincent would probably be strolling over from the mountain, just fine. . . .

By the time Barney pulled up at the site, the Turtle Van was already there. Vincent, unfortunately, wasn't. Barney got out, going over to his brother and his new friends with mounting dread. "What's happened?" he choked. "Do they know yet if anyone was inside?"

"The rescue crew is looking it over right now," Baxter said. Fear and anguish were in his eyes.

Michelangelo looked at him sadly. "Hey, I'm sure everything's okay," he said. "Vincent wouldn't have been in there! We don't even know that was the cab he took!"

"Unfortunately, yes, we do," Barney rasped. "I got the number of the cab from the dispatcher. That door that tore free and didn't burn is showing the same number." He pointed at the severed door laying in the dead grass.

April was standing apart from them, filming as the rescue crew stepped back from the burned-out remains of the cab. She gasped in horror when she realized what one of them was holding. "Oh no. . . ."

"This was in the passenger seat," the firefighter reported.

Michelangelo's initial concern over realizing the firefighter was one of those whom Baxter had changed into a giant termite in the past evaporated at the sight of what the man was holding out. "It can't be," he said. He felt sick.

Baxter went sheet-white. At his side, Barney had gone utterly stiff. Almost mechanically, he reached for the charred shell of a dark laptop.

The firefighter laid it in his arms. "I guess this is really evidence and we shouldn't have moved it until the police got here, but . . . can you tell if it's . . . well . . . your friend?" He regarded Barney and Baxter with sympathy and kindness rather than repulsion and disgust. If he realized Baxter was the one who had hurt him in his madness, it didn't seem to matter to him.

Barney just stared at it, completely blank. He couldn't think, couldn't speak. Now that he was holding the laptop, he couldn't make himself move any more.

Baxter laid a trembling hand on the laptop. "Vincent?" he quavered. Of course it was hopeless. It was too badly destroyed to even tell what the original color had been. Most of the circuitry was exposed and also damaged or destroyed. The motherboard was twisted and warped.

Michelangelo drew an arm around Baxter's shoulders. "Hey, there's no way to know that's him," he said. "Why would he be in the passenger seat?"

"Why did any of this happen?" Baxter countered morosely. "Why did someone want to separate him from Barney?"

"Well, I don't believe that's him," Raphael growled. "Not after everything he's been through and survived!"

"And why _would_ he have been in the passenger seat?" Leonardo frowned. "Something's fishy about this whole thing!"

"We should still run some tests to be sure," Donatello said. He looked to the firefighter. "Can we take this with us?"

"I . . . I don't know," the firefighter stammered.

"That might get him in trouble, guys," April said softly.

"But we're the only ones who could figure out if this was Vincent," Donatello said. "The police wouldn't be able to tell."

"What about the solid energy generator?" Raphael said. "Does it look like anything like that's there?!"

"I can't tell," Baxter sobbed, shaking his head. "Oh Barney, please say something!" He looked to his brother in frightened despair.

". . . I asked him if he had money for the cab," Barney said blankly. "He said Yes and I said Good. That was the last thing I said to him. . . ."

"Barney, this might not be Vincent!" Baxter cried.

"And if it's not, will they even send search-and-rescue teams after him?" Barney said. At last he came back to the present, looking to Baxter with anguished and furious eyes. "He's not an organic being. No one will want to take time to look for him, aside from us right here. They'll say they can't waste valuable resources to find someone's computer. They'll tell us to get another one. But we _can't_ get another one! There _isn't_ another one! There's only one Vincent!" His knees buckled and he started to crash into the dead grass.

It was Raphael who hauled him back up. "We'll take this mountain apart if we have to," he vowed. "If he's up there, we'll find him!"

Thunder boomed and they looked up. The rain wasn't hitting at the bottom of the cliff, but it looked like the entire mountainside above them was being soaked.

That seemed to zap Barney's last threads of hope. "Vincent can't be out in the rain," he whispered. "If this isn't him, he must be on that mountain. He's still as good as dead."

Baxter's shoulders slumped. "Oh Barney. . . ." His ability to be strong was gone. He collapsed against his brother, his forehead resting on Barney's shoulder.

Barney didn't react. Instead he kept holding the laptop shell while staring up into the drenched mountain. "One way or another, he's dead," he said quietly. "He's _dead. . . ._ "

At the moment, no one knew how to disagree.

xxxx

Hours had passed as the rain continued to fall. Zach had asked question after question about Vincent's systems and operations. Many of the questions were very technical. Clearly he was both knowledgeable about and interested in computers. Vincent had to admit he liked it. The boy was so innocent, so enthusiastic, so accepting. Vincent wouldn't be surprised if he did great things with computers some day. Vincent was happy to answer all of the queries.

Upon request, Vincent was also telling Zach many of his adventures of traveling through space and visiting all kinds of planets and cultures. It had long ago grown dark, but Zach didn't seem the least bit tired. He was completely enthralled.

"Why would you ever want to stay on Earth after going all around like that?" he exclaimed.

"I didn't have much choice at first," Vincent said. "My ship crashed and all of the crew was killed." His eyes darkened. "And I was abandoned by my home planet. They didn't consider me worth a trip to Earth. They actually told me they could just make more and cut off communications with me."

"That's awful," Zach gasped. "So you were really all alone?"

"Except for the robots, and they were programmed only to perform certain functions. They weren't alive like me." Vincent sighed. "I liked radio and television after they were invented, but it still wasn't like having someone to be with. I used to dream that someday I would have a friend. My home planet didn't believe in friendship, finding it unnecessary and even detrimental, but I saw how friendship improved the lives of people we visited and I never stopped wanting it. I longed for it even more after I saw a television series about a man and his living car."

"That sounds really cool!" Zach exclaimed.

"It was," Vincent said. "The early episodes kept emphasizing that the car didn't really have feelings, but they soon dropped that, I imagine because the audience knew better. I used to feel that the people who made that series would understand me."

"And then you finally met those Stockman guys." Zach sounded a little subdued again.

"Not at the same time, but yes," Vincent said. "And with each of them, they clearly wanted and needed a friend too. So we gradually became close and eventually all became a family together."

"That's pretty neat." Zach leaned against the wall of the cave, then shivered and moved away from it again. "You picked your own family and you all understood each other and stuff."

Vincent picked up on what the boy was not saying. "Don't you get along with your family?" he asked.

"Well . . ." Zach hesitated. "Things have been better with my brother Walt since he got made an honorary Turtle too. Our parents . . . well, they try and I try, but we don't always understand each other. I understand the Turtles better."

"No family understands each other all the time," Vincent said. "If you were around the Turtles more, I'm sure you'd find yourself surprised by some of the things you'd learn about them. You haven't actually interacted with them that often, have you?"

Zach hesitated. "No," he slowly admitted. "I guess I . . . make things up about them in my mind. But it's always based on how they've been when I have seen them."

"And maybe you'd find that they're actually different from some of what you've been picturing," Vincent said.

"Maybe," Zach said noncommittally. "But they have an awesome relationship with Splinter. And you and those Stockmans must have a really good relationship too."

"No family is always a bed of roses," Vincent said. "When I first met Baxter, he was out of his mind. I had to be very patient with him because as time went on, he couldn't retain much of anything for more than a few minutes. But I loved him anyway and I never gave up on him.

"Then with Barney, he was so angry and he hated Baxter. I had to try to help him calm down and get to a point where he could feel ready to overcome that. There were many times when it was difficult to deal with his rage, but I didn't give up on him either."

"So . . . you're saying I should keep trying with my parents?" Zach frowned.

"I'm saying that every family requires effort. I realize that some families are so fractured there really isn't much that can be done. Baxter and Barney's parents are a good example of that. But I think sometimes people look at other families and think they're so much easier or better than the one they have, and maybe if they were in the other families, they would see that wasn't quite true." Vincent looked at Zach. "I don't know anything about your home life, but when I think of the 300 years I spent all alone, I can't help thinking that as long as they don't actually treat you unkindly, I would be grateful just to have a family at all."

Zach looked down. "I get what you're saying, and I know they never mean to not be kind. But like . . . okay, so this one time I got so caught up in these epic alien comic books I was reading and started thinking that we were having alien invasions all over the place. I really caused some trouble, but I didn't mean to, and instead of trying to talk to me about it, my parents thought the solution was to send me to military school. It was the Turtles and Master Splinter who thought about talking to me instead."

"Military school does seem . . . extreme," Vincent remarked. "It's normal for children's imaginations to run wild at times."

"Yeah!" Zach looked up again. "Then the military school ended up being the site of a real alien invasion, so that let me off the hook and I got to go back home. My parents really have been trying harder since then. My dad even got interested in the alien comic books too. But well . . . it's still kind of like . . ." He held up his hands with the fingers together and moved them closer to each other, then deliberately had them fail to make contact. "Like that. We still don't really _get_ each other."

"It's possible that you never will," Vincent admitted. "But there's also the chance that if you keep trying, something good might come of it."

"I guess it's possible." Zach paused, somewhat embarrassed as his stomach growled. "Ooops. . . ."

"It's late," Vincent realized after consulting with his clock. "And it's still raining. Do you have anything to eat?"

Zach got into his backpack and pulled out an energy bar. "The emergency supplies," he said. "Guess this is an emergency." He opened the bar and slowly started to eat. "I wonder if my troop realizes I'm missing now. . . ."

"I'm sure they do," Vincent said in surprise. "I know Baxter and Barney must be absolutely frantic about me."

Zach frowned a bit at the bar. "Do you know why the Turtles got so chummy with those Stockman guys?"

"There were a lot of reasons," Vincent said, frowning a bit as well. "They felt they needed to help Baxter when he was finally turned human again and was very sick, and then they gradually began forming friendships with him. When Barney started turning his life around and tried to help them, the same thing started to happen." He paused. "But as far as 'those Stockman guys' go, I'm also a Stockman. Maybe not officially and legally, but to Baxter and Barney I am."

"That's true," Zach relented. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be jealous of them, I know. . . . It's funny that I've never really been jealous of April. Maybe it's because they were bad guys and I just wonder how the Turtles could end up so close to them under the circumstances."

"Michelangelo's forgiving nature had a lot to do with it," Vincent said. "And the fact that they're both good people. They just made some bad choices. So did I."

"Yeah. . . ." Zach finished the energy bar and dug in his backpack for a blanket. "We're probably gonna be here for a while yet. It's supposed to rain all night."

"Wonderful," Vincent muttered.

"Do you get cold?" Zach offered half the blanket.

Vincent took it in touched surprise. "Not the same way organic beings do, but yes." He pulled it around himself.

Zach burrowed into the other half, shivering as the wind from outside blew into the cave.

"You're still cold," Vincent observed.

"No, I'm not," Zach insisted. He turned away from the mouth of the cave.

"It would be better if you didn't wake up with some sort of human ailment in the morning," Vincent said. He moved closer to Zach and drew the boy into his arms. "How's this?"

Initially Zach was going to protest, but then he thought better of it. "Hey, you're actually pretty warm," he realized. "Thanks."

"There are definite advantages to having a body made of energy," Vincent said.

It had been a long day and Zach was soon asleep. Vincent smiled a bit, but sadness and worry filled his eyes as he looked out at the pouring rain. "Baxter . . . Barney . . . I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Please forgive me. I'd be home right now if I could."

But that was impossible and he needed strength for the journey on the morrow. So, resting against the wall of the cave, he slowly slipped to sleep.

xxxx

The mood below the mountain was still very solemn as day gave way to night. The police arrived to examine the wrecked car, but although they were not thrilled at the idea of the Turtles taking possession of the laptop, they had to concede that the Turtles would know better if it was alien technology. However, the officer in charge insisted, the Turtles would have to stay in contact with the police and inform them of what they learned.

"I don't know," Donatello frowned. "Working _with_ the police? We've never done that before, unless you want to count Rex-1."

"It's the only way they'll let you have the laptop," Baxter said, his voice filled with desperation and sadness. "I know it must be difficult for you, but please. . . . We need to know if . . . if this is . . ." He trailed off. He couldn't say it.

"Come on, Dude," Michelangelo said, looking to Donatello. "We've wanted to get in better with the police, if we could. Maybe this'll help."

"As long as we're careful, I think it's worth a try," Leonardo said.

Raphael frowned. "I don't trust the police, but we need this laptop."

Donatello heaved a sigh. "Alright, we'll try it. I just hope we won't regret it."

". . . What about searching for Vincent in case he is in the mountains?" Barney asked.

Everyone looked to him. It was the first thing he'd said in quite some time.

"We'll all look for him in the morning," Leonardo promised. "I'm sure Master Splinter will help too."

"And Irma and I'll come," April said.

Baxter gave a weak smile. "Thank you. . . ."

Overhearing their conversation, the head firefighter came back over to them. "This computer of yours really is alive?" he asked.

"He really is," Baxter nodded.

"Well, I'm afraid you're probably right that the department wouldn't agree, but I'd like to help on my own," the man offered.

Baxter stared at him. "You'd do that?" He shifted uncomfortably. "I . . . I did something horrible to you in the past. . . . I've vaguely started to remember it the longer I'm around you."

"I know," the firefighter replied.

"You knew and you said nothing?!" Baxter was stunned.

"Hey, you weren't in your right mind," the firefighter told him. "And you and your brother love that computer so much. . . . That's worth some of my time."

Baxter shook his head. "I don't know what to say. . . ."

"I do!" April exclaimed. "What a wonderful human interest story! And maybe by putting it out there, we could find some more people willing to help look for Vincent!"

The firefighter looked awkward. "I didn't mean for there to be any big publicity over it. I just want to do the right thing, and I think that's helping these people. But if you think it might get some more people interested, well, alright."

April beamed and powered up her camera.

Barney stepped away from the filming to stare up at the mountain again. "Before anyone can even go up there and start searching, we have to wait for morning. And probably for the rain to stop. What's the likelihood that he'll really still be alive by then? He's probably dead now."

"Hey, don't count him out yet, Barney Dude." Michelangelo came over and stood beside him. "Vincent's resourceful! Maybe he found someplace to hide and wait out the storm."

A bit of hope flickered in Barney's eyes. "He would certainly be capable of it. But there might not be any place for him to find. It would only take a few minutes in a downpour for all of his systems to short out." He shuddered. "Even then, he might still recover if he could be helped right away. If not . . ." He trailed off.

"Let's not think about the If Nots!" Michelangelo insisted. "Let's think about the good stuff!"

"I . . . wish I could." Barney spoke haltingly, sorrowfully. "I'm sure you remember that I was always the cynical one. Baxter was the one who had hope. Even he isn't sure what to make of any of this."

"We're all in your corner, Amigo," Michelangelo said. "Even Raphael. We're not giving up on Vincent. Not yet."

"That's right!" Raphael nodded.

The police officer in charge suddenly came over to the group. "Does anyone here know a boy named Zach?" he asked.

That brought everyone's attention up. "Of course," Leonardo said in surprise.

"What about him?" Michelangelo blinked. "I hope the microdude hasn't got himself in any trouble."

"I'd say it's trouble," the policeman replied. "He was on that mountain up there with a Scout troop. I just got a distress call from the Scoutmaster. Zach's been gone all day and he still hasn't come back."

Everyone exchanged stricken looks.

"What if Zach saw what happened to Vincent?" Donatello worried.

"And like, maybe the bad guys carted him off," Michelangelo added, his eyes wide.

Barney stared at them. "This is the Zach you named the fifth Turtle?!"

"That's right," Leonardo frowned. "And this really is a worry. He definitely could have seen something!"

"And those scuzz-buckets really might have taken him with them!" Raphael added.

Finished with the filming, Baxter ran over to them. "What's going on?!" he exclaimed. "A child is mixed up in this now?!"

"It sure looks like a possibility," Leonardo said.

"And like, we won't be able to look for Zach until morning, either!" Michelangelo said. "He might still be on that mountain. He could've got caught in the storm!"

Barney looked sick. "This keeps getting worse and worse."

The police officer went back to his unit and spoke on the radio. Then he came back, looking somberly from Baxter to Barney. "A couple of officers picked up a cab driver coming out of the mountains," he reported. "He was soaking wet. He claimed this was his cab and as far as he knew, your . . . computer friend was in it when it went over the cliff."

Baxter paled. Barney stiffened again, but he was the one who responded. "Did he say anything else?" His voice was clipped, but that didn't disguise the pain. If anything, it emphasized it.

"It took a while, but he finally confessed it was Big Louie who put him up to trying to kidnap your . . . friend."

Now Baxter found his voice. "What on Earth for?!"

"Apparently word had got around about its . . . his abilities and Big Louie wanted to see what made him tick." The policeman frowned. "A couple of officers are going to bring him for questioning now. If you want to talk to him, he should be at the nearest precinct by the time we get back."

"You bet we want to talk to him!" Raphael snarled. "He had no right to go trying to take Vincent like that!"

Barney turned away, shutting his eyes in pain. "I worried that something like this might happen," he said. "It was another reason why I hesitated to let Vincent roam around town. But I didn't want to restrain him. . . . It made him so happy. . . ."

Baxter came up next to him. "You did the right thing, Barney," he said softly. "Vincent had the right to make his own decision. He wouldn't have been happy just being cooped up inside all the time if that was the only way to use the solid energy generator. That would have kept him apart from you a lot of the time."

"He said he was willing to just be a regular laptop if that was the only way I felt he could come with me," Barney answered.

"And he would have been," Baxter agreed. "But could you or I have really done that to him? When he had a body, he wanted to use it."

Finally Barney's shoulders slumped in his consent. "No. I couldn't have done that. But . . . to have our time with him cut so short. . . . It isn't fair . . . or right . . . for any of us." His voice darkened.

"No, it isn't," Baxter said. "But Vincent was so happy that we were all a family. I don't think he would change anything."

"I would," Barney replied. "That I left today without him." And he walked to his car without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Big Louie didn't seem to mind that the police had dragged him in. And when the door to the interrogation room opened and Baxter, Barney, and the Turtles came in, he just sneered at the lot of them. "Well, I'm glad you could make it," he mocked. "It's not like I'll be in here for any length of time."

Barney's eyes were completely cold. He set the remains of the laptop on the table between them. "You murdered Vincent."

"Maybe I tried to steal it, but no one can murder a computer," Louie retorted.

"You arranged to have him abducted!" Barney screamed. "He was trying to escape when he was killed by the incompetence of the cab driver you paid to take him!"

"And what can I be charged with?" Louie smirked. "Felony theft, sure. Abduction and murder? You've gotta be kidding." He looked to the charred laptop. "What are you going to do with this pile of junk? Have a funeral and bury it?"

Barney snapped. He lunged, shrieking unintelligible words of hatred and grief. Baxter and Raphael and Michelangelo were forced to hold him back.

"Barney, no!" Baxter cried. "You'll be arrested too!"

"Even if you're not, this rude dude is totally not worth it!" Michelangelo added.

"It won't bring Vincent back," Raphael said through gritted teeth. "But believe me, I'd like to shove my fist in his face just once! . . ."

Leonardo looked coldly at the mobster. "There's also a boy missing. He was up on that mountain with a Scout troop and he hasn't been seen for hours. Did your men take him?"

"If they did, do you think I'd be stupid enough to admit it?" Louie retorted. "They didn't, though, so I'm more than happy to let you know it."

"Yeah, like we believe you," Raphael snapped.

"Maybe you can't be charged for kidnapping Vincent," Leonardo said, "but you sure can be charged if you had anything to do with kidnapping Zach."

"It's lucky for me that I didn't," Louie smirked.

Donatello took the laptop in his hands. "There's no point in staying here any longer. Let's go." He shot Louie a look of utter disgust before turning to leave.

The others followed him, Baxter and Michelangelo still supporting Barney as they went.

"What about the cab driver?" Barney snarled. "Is he here too?"

"Yes," the police officer said, looking hesitant.

"There won't be any more scenes," Barney vowed. "But I want to talk to him."

She gave him a wary look. "Only if you really follow through with that promise."

"We've lost someone dear to us," Baxter said quietly. "Surely you can understand if we're not always able to handle it rationally."

"Of course," she nodded, although her wary look did not change.

The cabbie was waiting in another interrogation room. When the door opened and the group came in, he went stiff. When Donatello held out the laptop, his eyes widened in shock. "You found it?!"

"Him," Donatello said coldly. "We found _him_ , in the cab, where you left him to die."

"Oh." The cabbie shifted. "Him. Right."

Leonardo raised an eyebrow. "Why was he in the passenger seat?"

"Why?" More shifting. "Because . . . he was trying to take over the driving, you know?"

"Vincent could do that from the back seat," Barney frowned.

Baxter looked from the laptop to the cabbie. "Is this Vincent?" he demanded. "Or is it a different laptop? Yours, perhaps?"

The cabbie went sheet-white. "No! It's not mine!" he yelped. "It's yours! Can't you tell?"

"No," Donatello said coolly. "We can't. And maybe that's what you wanted. Maybe you wanted us to think it was Vincent because for some reason you didn't want it known that there was another laptop in that car."

"What if it isn't your laptop, like you said?" Leonardo mused. "What if it belonged to Big Louie? Or one of his henchmen?"

Now the cabbie absolutely looked faint. "Absolutely not!"

"And what if you stole it?" Baxter continued. "Or perhaps you just decided to keep it after it was accidentally left behind following a rendezvous with one of those unsavory characters."

"Why the heck would I do a dumb thing like that?!" the cabbie countered.

Warming to the occasion, Barney glowered at him. "Blackmail, perhaps?"

"Or selling to the highest bidder?" Baxter offered.

Leonardo nodded. "There could have been some real juicy information on that laptop. Now no one will know."

"Unless Vincent turns up alive," Donatello said. "Then you'll definitely have some explaining to do."

The cabbie scowled and folded his arms, looking away. "I ain't sayin' anything more."

"I think you've said plenty," Donatello smirked.

They left soon after. Michelangelo was wide-eyed and hopeful. "See? Maybe it really isn't Vincent! I think from the way the dude was acting, it's more than a little likely!"

"I think you have something," Barney admitted. "But if Vincent has been on that mountain during this heavy rainstorm, it's still highly unlikely he's alive."

"I won't give up on him," Baxter insisted. "It's too horrible to think that he's gone. Not when there's some hope."

"It's a very slim hope," Barney growled. "And I don't know that I can believe in it."

"Hopefully I'll be able to salvage something from this laptop that will tell us more," Donatello said.

"Oh." Baxter stopped walking and looked to the others in dismay. "If Vincent is alive and we find him, he's going to be devastated that this laptop was left in the cab and destroyed. I'm afraid he'll feel at least partially responsible, since he bailed out without knowing it was there."

Raphael frowned. "It's not like it's alive like he is."

"It's no different than a human being upset if another human is hurt and he could have helped, had he known," Baxter said. "Vincent was so sick about having hurt the computers on the Technodrome when Krang made him malfunction. He can't stand to harm any computer. He'd probably feel badly about the car's computer too, but I think at least he'd realize he couldn't have saved it. Knowing that he could have saved the laptop had he known it was there would make that a far harsher blow."

Barney hadn't considered this problem. He looked sharply to Donatello. "Can you get it running again?"

Donatello looked overwhelmed to be put on the spot. "I . . . don't know," he said slowly. "It looks pretty far gone. Maybe if I mixed and matched some pieces. . . ."

"I'll help wherever I can," Barney said. "Whether it is Vincent or it isn't, now we have some motivation to try to put it back together."

"Can we?" Baxter was doubtful.

"Let's find out." Barney looked down at the laptop and then out at the night sky. "I don't want Vincent to suffer with guilt if he comes back."

xxxx

Shredder scowled at the transdimensional screen as April O'Neil delivered the late news. When Krang wandered in and saw the scene, he scowled too. "Shredder, what are you doing?"

"Listening to the latest reports on Barney's blasted computer," Shredder replied. "It seems to be missing. Not to mention thought dead." He sneered behind his mask. "Apparently they found the burned-out remains of a laptop. If only it would really be dead and gone!"

Krang clomped into the room. "Yes, Shredder, I know how much you hate Barney's computer. You would probably dance on its grave, if it had one."

"I know you don't like that obnoxious mass of circuitry either," Shredder retorted.

"But I don't have time to waste taking revenge on it," Krang shot back. "We've wasted precious time getting the Technodrome upright again. The Foot Soldiers have been working day and night to wash off all the mud. We need an energy source powerful enough to completely roll us out of this mud hole! I can't be bothered worrying about wanting an annoying enemy dead right now, especially not because of any petty feelings of vengeance!"

"I have been dishonored by not only animals and old men, but physically weak scientists and their pet computer!" Shredder screamed. "Nothing is more important than my revenge on them all!"

"Well, if Barney's computer is dead, it looks like someone else beat you to that one," Krang remarked. "And it being gone will crush Baxter and Barney, so that takes care of all three of them. Now come away from that screen and help me plan how to get the Technodrome out of the mud, if you're not going to sleep!"

Shredder didn't look pleased, but he grudgingly got up and followed Krang.

xxxx

Despite knowing they needed a good sleep to get an early start searching, sleep wouldn't come. Baxter turned over and over in the bed, staring at the walls and thinking of Vincent. His first best friend, his and Barney's other brother. . . .

He had felt something shatter inside of him when Big Louie had made his cruel remarks. If he hadn't needed to be strong for Barney, he probably would have snapped himself.

He wanted to keep hold of hope. It seemed like there was still a chance, especially when the cabbie had acted so suspicious about the charred laptop. But . . . even if that wasn't Vincent, Barney was right-Vincent couldn't be out very long in a heavy rainstorm before it would be over for him.

Baxter shut his eyes, but the images were still there: Vincent stumbling through the woods, alone and worried . . . the rain beginning to pour . . . Vincent desperate for shelter. . . . The rain getting into his circuitry . . . Vincent in terrible pain. . . . Falling unconscious as the rain continued to pound him. . . . The last sparks of electricity before his death. . . .

Baxter's eyes flew open again and he sat up in bed, trembling. It was hopeless. He could not sleep. No wonder Barney couldn't bring himself to have hope.

He came out of his room and went quietly downstairs, not wanting to disturb Barney. But of course Barney was awake as well, sitting at his island and staring into a mug.

Baxter slid into the seat across from him. "We're going to be zombies tomorrow. . . ."

"I doubt it," Barney said flatly. "I'm wide-awake."

Baxter had to chuckle. "Remember how you used to say that as a child when the maid tried to get you to go to sleep? And she'd give up and let you stay up and find out how you'd be exhausted by morning. Once, you fell asleep right in school."

Barney wasn't in the mood for humor. "I didn't have as much stamina then. And I wasn't worried about my brother being dead."

Baxter sighed and looked down at the counter. Humor was definitely ill-placed right now.

Silence reigned for several agonizing minutes. When one of them spoke again, to Baxter's surprise it was Barney.

". . . I didn't know that, about how Vincent felt if he hurt other computers."

Baxter looked up with a start. "He told me when we were stranded on the Technodrome. He started trying to repair the central computer, not just so we could get the portal opened, but because he just couldn't stand to see it suffer."

"That was foolish," Barney said flatly. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "But it makes sense."

"Vincent loved computers," Baxter said. "He wanted to make the world better for them. But I've been thinking that maybe when he tried to take over Earth, it wasn't just because of that and because he felt computers could rule better. When he had amnesia, he made it clear how deeply affected he'd been by being abandoned by the aliens. And I started to wonder if taking over Channel 6 in the past had a lot to do with those feelings, even if he didn't consciously realize it. You know-lashing out against organic beings since he had been hurt by organic beings."

"I'm supposed to be the psychologist," Barney grunted. "But that sounds plausible."

Baxter stared off at the wall. "Poor Vincent. . . . All of us went through so much pain in our lives. . . ."

"And then we started to become close and eased each other's pain." Barney started to get up. "Until one of us is gone, of course. Then we experience a new type of pain."

Baxter looked up at him. "But even with the pain, it was worth knowing him. . . ."

"I would never wish to have not known him," Barney agreed. "He was too special, too important to both of us."

Baxter hesitated. "I'm sure there's many things you know about Vincent that I don't know," he said. "Or . . . things I don't remember I know. . . ."

"You're probably right, but why are you saying that?" Barney retorted. "Do you think I'm jealous if you know something I don't?"

Baxter stiffened, caught. "Well . . ."

"Nevermind. It's a logical assumption," Barney growled. "And in the past, you'd probably be right. But I'm not jealous now."

Baxter relaxed. "Do you think . . . you could tell me some of the things you know?"

Barney paused. "I think it would hurt too much right now," he said. "Maybe later." He rinsed the mug and left it on the counter before walking out of the room.

Baxter sadly looked down. "I don't want to lose both my brothers," he said. "Isn't losing one horrible enough?"

Barney didn't come back. Frowning, Baxter got up and went into the living room. He wasn't in there. But then there was the sound of a door creaking open upstairs. Baxter hurried up the stairs and then rocked back at the sight of Barney staring into Vincent's bedroom.

Barney didn't turn, but he wasn't surprised by Baxter catching up to him. "Vincent was making plans for decorating like the 1980s," he said.

Baxter caught sight of several DVD sets on the table across from the bed: _Knight Rider_ , _Magnum P.I._ , _The A-Team_ , _Riptide_. . . . The _Knight Rider_ set was open, with the disc sleeves sticking out of the top of the box.

"He was ecstatic to discover the re-release of _Knight Rider_ ," Barney said. "He got the entire series for $25 at Wal-Mart."

Baxter gave a sad smile. "He told me how much he loved that one. . . . A man and his living car friend. . . ."

"He had me watch a couple of episodes with him," Barney said. "It was . . . cheesy, of course. But I appreciated the friendship between the characters." He rested his forehead against the doorframe. "Now I wish I'd watched it with him more. . . ."

"There's still hope, Barney," Baxter insisted. "Vincent could have found somewhere to hide from the rain."

"Well. That's what we're going to find out in the morning, isn't it." Barney turned to look up at Baxter. "But we might find another horrible sight instead. And I . . . I don't think I'm strong enough to face that. . . ."

Baxter shook his head. "I'm not sure I am, either," he confessed. "I don't know how I held it together today. . . ." His voice cracked. "When that man handed you the laptop, I wanted to scream. I did, inside. But somehow it didn't come out into my voice."

"I just went blank. Nothing would process, except that I was holding what was left of Vincent." Barney gripped the wood. "I still don't know that I wasn't."

"Let's try not to think that yet," Baxter pleaded. "Not when we don't know for sure."

"Easier said than done." Barney turned off the light and pulled the door shut. "We'd better try to get some sleep."

Baxter slowly nodded. It still didn't sound possible, but they really did need to try. He turned to walk to his room across the hall.

"Do you think . . . it would be inappropriate to pray for Vincent?"

Baxter stopped, blinking in surprise at Barney's halting voice. "No, I don't," he said. "I've already been doing it."

"So have I." Not offering more, Barney went into his room and shut the door.

Baxter noted that he had left it ajar. Barney wouldn't say it, but that said loud and clear that he wanted a link with another person. He didn't want to be entirely alone.

Baxter smiled sadly to himself as he went into his room next-door. He also left the door ajar.

xxxx

Donatello sighed as he set the twisted remains of the laptop on a table in his workshop. "I really don't know, guys," he said. "This just doesn't look salvageable at all."

"Come on, since when have you ever let that stop you before?" Raphael countered.

"And if it's not Vincent, it doesn't even seem worth the bother," Donatello continued.

"We don't know whether it is or not," Leonardo said gravely.

"And like, if Vincent is gonna feel majorly bummed about having left it in the car to blow up, why wouldn't it be worth the bother of trying to fix it?" Michelangelo frowned. "He's our bud. Don't we owe him that much?"

"It's a lot," Donatello said. He held up the warped motherboard. " _Look_ at this!" His shoulders slumped. "But yeah, I'll give it a try."

"Bodacious!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

Splinter came to the doorway. "It will certainly be a noble effort, my son," he said. "But now it is late and we all have an important task in the morning. We should all try to sleep."

"I know, Sensei, but if this _is_ Vincent, finding out could save all the trouble of looking for him," Donatello pointed out.

"I don't think it's him," Leonardo said. "That cab driver acted too suspicious. He's hiding something."

"Yeah! Like, he was way too eager to tell us it was Vincent in the cab," Michelangelo said. "And he got so jumpy at the thought of it being another laptop."

"I'll bet he really did try to rip off Big Louie," Raphael said. "He probably hoped we'd never find Vincent and he could make-believe this was him to keep the heat off himself!"

"It really was weird," Donatello conceded. "But I'm still not completely convinced."

"You do as you feel you must, my student," Splinter said. "The rest of us had best try to sleep."

The other Turtles echoed their agreement. They trouped out of the lab, Michelangelo looking back over his shoulder. "And like, hey, good luck," he said.

"Thanks a lump," Donatello muttered, sinking down at the workbench.

xxxx

Vincent stirred, feeling the movement as Zach slipped out of his arms. He opened his eyes, blinking at the overcast day. It wasn't currently raining, but it didn't look very promising.

He slowly got to his feet and wandered to the doorway. "Where are you going, Zach?" he asked, not wanting the boy to stray too far out of sight.

"I'm just around the side of the cave," Zach called back. "There's a berry patch over here."

"Non-poisonous, I hope." Vincent gathered the blanket in his arms and stepped into the grass.

"Of course! I know all about what berries are poisonous and what kind you can eat!" Zach munched on what looked like a strawberry.

Vincent came closer, curiously observing. Zach took out a bag from his backpack and started to fill it up with the fruit.

"Do you ever wish you could eat?" he wondered.

"Not especially," Vincent said. "Although naturally I've been idly curious as to what it's like. Organic lifeforms certainly seem to enjoy it."

"It's great," Zach declared.

Vincent turned his attention to trying to get an Internet signal. In a moment he sighed. If anything, it was weaker than ever. He supposed that made sense when there was a mountain in his way now. He brought up a map of their current location and examined aerial photographs of the terrain.

"Whatcha doing?" Zach asked after a moment.

"I'm trying to determine where we go from here," Vincent said. "You said yesterday we're on the other side of the mountain. It looks like it would be easier to go down from this side and then walk around the foot of the mountain to get back to the road."

"Yeah, probably," Zach agreed. "It's all grassy on this side. The way we came up has all those rocks."

"And maybe those two idiots."

Zach blinked. "Would they really still be here looking for you?"

"They probably couldn't get down the mountain in all the rain either," Vincent pointed out. "And if they did, they might be sent back." He hesitated. "Of course, on the other hand, there should be search parties looking for both of us today. If we go back the way we came, we might run into them." His eyes flickered with sorrow. "I hate to make anyone worry about us for any longer than they have to."

"Me too," Zach frowned. "The Turtles and April probably all know by now."

"And your family," Vincent prompted.

"Yeah." Zach put the sack of strawberries in his backpack.

"Did you try your Turtle-Comm again?"

"I sure did. Still nothing." Zach looked displeased. "I wonder if instead of not being able to get a signal here, it's that I haven't used it in so long that it's wearing down." He took it out and looked it over. "It seems okay, though."

Vincent took it and also examined it, running a quick scan of its properties. "It's working," he said. "It just can't get a signal."

"Yeah, that's what I really figured," Zach said in frustration. "And another thing to think about is that it might rain again."

Fear flashed in Vincent's eyes. "Let's go back the way we came."

Zach nodded. "Okay."

For a while everything was peaceful. They started back into the brush without incident. But after a few minutes the leaves up ahead rustled and the two thugs stepped out.

"Well, what have we here," the first sneered. "So you did make it through the rain, Computer. Our boss will be very happy about that."

"You won't take me without a fight," Vincent retorted.

"And you won't take him without going through me, either!" Zach cried, getting in front of Vincent.

"No, Zach!" Vincent exclaimed.

The strongarms were amused. "A computer and a brat. Gee, I wonder how long it'll take us to catch them." The second one held up his gun. "Surrender or the boy gets it."

Vincent responded by blasting the gun out of his hand and sending it spinning into the woods. "I have a better idea," he replied. "We don't surrender and the boy doesn't 'get it.'"

The thug looked dumbly at his empty hand.

The first one wasn't so impressed. "You won't have as much luck with me," he growled. He threw a knife, which Vincent also zapped away. But while they were occupied with that, the man brought out a gun and fired, taking a chunk out of a tree next to Vincent.

"Run!" he ordered Zach.

Zach obeyed, dashing into the trees. Vincent followed suit, ducking another bullet.

"They really are stupid," Zach said. "If they hit you, you'll be hurt!"

"Only if they hit the laptop," Vincent said. "I can heal injuries to my body."

"Even if the bullet gets stuck?" Zach wondered, his eyes wide.

Vincent fell silent. "Actually, I'm not sure what happens in that case," he admitted. "And I don't want to find out!"

The thugs crashed through the shrubbery behind them. Just as they burst through on what turned out to be the edge, the first one fired again, dangerously close to Vincent.

"Vincent!" Zach pulled Vincent to the grass, screaming in pain as he did.

Vincent went stiff. "Zach?! Are you hit?!"

Zach had no chance to respond before the ground crumbled underneath them and they fell, soon disappearing into the trees and brush far down the mountainside.

The thugs came to a halt, staring as their prey vanished. "Uh oh," gulped the second one. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know, but I don't wanna go down there," frowned the first. "Computer's probably in pieces and you know how many years you get for hurting a kid?"

"But what's Big Louie going to do to us if we go back and tell him we failed again?" the second gulped.

Silence. ". . . Let's try to find an easier way down."

xxxx

On the other side of the mountain, the professional and volunteer search-and-rescue crews were gathering. By the time Baxter and Barney arrived with the Turtles and Splinter, many were already there.

"Well, it looks like April's news story sure helped," Michelangelo blinked.

"Most of these people are probably here to find that boy," Barney said. "Naturally we'll look for him as well as Vincent. I just hope these people will be willing to look for Vincent as well as the boy."

The firefighter from the past night was in charge of the search. As he went to the front to deliver instructions and guidelines to the groups, several college-age kids approached Barney.

"Hi, Professor," Andrew greeted.

Barney stared. "What is this?"

"You and Vincent mean a lot to us," Diane smiled. "We wanted to help."

Gloria caught Baxter's eye and smiled at him. He smiled back, touched by the students' kindness.

Barney also was deeply moved, but he said, "What about your classes?"

"Oh, we can skip them for one day," Andrew said.

"This is more important," Gloria spoke.

". . . Thank you," Barney stammered. He was at a loss for more words, but it was enough.

The groups turned their attention to the firefighter, who was still speaking.

"Remember," he cautioned. "Don't try to wander off on your own and be a big hero. Stick with your group. We don't want three or more . . . beings lost out there."

"Three?" called one man. "There's already two? I thought it was just the boy Zach. I know I heard something about a computer, but that's not important."

Barney bristled.

"Vincent Stockman is missing too," the firefighter replied, and Barney looked both surprised and pleased that Vincent had been referred to as such. "Yeah, he's a computer, but he's alive. It's important to save him too. If you see someone going through the woods that looks like a laptop computer with a body, that's him."

Murmurs rose through the group.

"A living computer? A _walking_ computer?"

"Does it teach a college class?"

"Wasn't it stabbed in that old town?"

Baxter flinched at the memory.

"Vincent is not an 'it,'" Barney muttered.

Baxter certainly agreed. But he remembered that both he and Barney had thought of Vincent as an _it_ at times. Baxter hadn't while cross-fused, but when he was sane and not sure if he was remembering right, he had. Barney had wanted to think of Vincent as a _he_ , but he hadn't let himself until Vincent had given him his name.

"Now, I know this sounds wacky, but it's true," said the firefighter. "He's nothing to be afraid of. He's friendly . . ." He glanced to Baxter for confirmation and received a nod. "So just call out to him and let him know you're friendly too. He won't hurt anyone unless he's provoked. And maybe he's even seen Zach.

"Alright, let's go!"

The groups started to disperse in different directions. Michelangelo led the Turtles over to where Zach's parents and Walt were preparing to join the search. "Hey, we just want you all to know that we're gonna do everything we can to find Zach," he said. The other Turtles nodded. "And the microdude's really handy. I'm sure he's fine." He grinned.

Zach's mother bit her lip and blinked back tears. "Maybe this was just like when we tried to send him to military school and it's something else we shouldn't have done," she bemoaned.

Zach's father kept an arm around her shoulders. "I think it was just the right thing for him," he soothed. "You know how much Zach loves to be active in the outdoors. This puts a practical spin on it."

"I'm sure he's fine," Walt added. "All the Scouting stuff is probably helping him."

"I agree," Leonardo nodded.

"And this . . . computer . . . thing that's up there too," Zach's mother said slowly. "If it finds Zach, you're sure it won't hurt him?"

Michelangelo frowned. "His name is Vincent and he's not a thing," he insisted. "Zach would be totally safe with him! I hope they _are_ together!" He blinked. "I wonder why we didn't think of that idea before. They totally could have met up!"

"We still don't know anything for certain," Barney said as he came over. He looked to Zach's family. "I'm Barney Stockman. This is my brother Baxter. We're both sincerely sorry about your son."

Baxter nodded. "A missing loved one is always a horrible thing," he said softly.

"Thank you," said Zach's father. "And we're sorry about your . . . computer friend."

"Our brother," Barney said firmly. "Thank you."

When they stepped away again to speak with the firefighter, Zach's mother looked to the Turtles. "Are they quite alright?" she said in concern.

"Hey, just because a family's unconventional doesn't mean it's not legitimate," Raphael said.

"If you meet Vincent, you'll understand," Michelangelo said.

Zach's parents didn't look convinced, but they didn't protest.

xxxx

Vincent was shaking as he pulled himself upright. He had forced his body to fall in a way that would not damage the laptop, but it had been a painful experience. Not to mention utterly terrifying. The last time he had fallen had been in Nightmare Land, and he had hoped to never have to repeat it.

"Zach?" he demanded. "Where are you?"

"O-Over here," Zach trembled.

Vincent stumbled to his feet and limped over to the bush where Zach had crashed. Blood was all over the lower part of his right pant leg. "You _did_ get shot," he said in horror. He reached down, lifting Zach out of the bush and onto the grass.

"It's not that bad," Zach insisted. "Really. I've got a first aid kit in my backpack." He rose up enough to slide the backpack off his shoulders and open it.

Vincent pushed up the pant leg, wanting first of all to examine the wound. He sighed in relief. "The bullet just went past you," he reported. "It'll sting for a while, but if we take care of it properly and get back to civilization soon, there shouldn't be any danger of infection."

He was impressed by Zach's knowledge of first aid, although not especially surprised considering the boy's Scout training. Together they managed to take care of the leg and Zach grabbed for a fallen tree branch to use as a walking stick. "Thanks," he said as he pulled himself to his feet.

"I should be thanking you," Vincent said. "I could have been hit."

"Fifth Turtles are always there to help!" Zach chirped.

Vincent smiled a bit but then sighed. "Well, now we have no choice but to go around the mountain from this side."

"It'll be okay," Zach said. "As long as it doesn't rain. . . ."

Vincent cringed. "Yes. As long as it doesn't do that."

They started to walk. "I guess those guys are probably still coming after us," Zach remarked.

"Probably," Vincent said. "I feel terrible. I shouldn't have said for us to go back the way we came. Now you're hurt."

"It doesn't even hurt," Zach insisted through gritted teeth. "And we both thought going back the other way was the best thing. It would have been, if those goons hadn't caught up to us."

"And there's still no Internet signal," Vincent said in frustration. "I think when we get home, I'm going to see if it's possible to extend my signal to reach satellites."

"You could do that?" Zach's eyes went wide.

"I'm sure I could," Vincent said. "When I was a ship's computer it was easy. A laptop doesn't quite have the same range. But it could be modified to have a stronger signal."

"Cool!" Zach hesitated. "What are you gonna do when, you know, the laptop starts slowing down and not working so well?"

"That's not supposed to happen," Vincent said. "I instructed Barney on how to build it using alien methods. It should be as long-lasting as the computers I used in the past."

"That's really awesome," Zach said in amazement. "You said you're 485 years old?"

"That's right," Vincent said.

"Alien computers live a long time," Zach said.

"Especially when they have something to live for," Vincent said. "I never gave up hoping that someday I would find a friend. Now I have a family."

"And we've gotta get you back to them," Zach determined. "And me back home too. I hope my parents won't be mad. . . ."

"Why should they be?" Vincent frowned. "What happened was hardly your fault. And you've been very brave and resourceful."

"I guess I'm thinking about the military school thing again and wondering how they'll really act when something big happens again," Zach said. "Things have been pretty quiet with me until yesterday. They probably hoped there wouldn't be any more trouble. Maybe they'll think I just wandered off and have been goofing around or something."

"They know you always try to be responsible, don't they?" Vincent said.

"Well, yeah . . . I guess. . . . But I've also always been what Dad calls 'a free spirit.' I'm not very conventional. I've always done my own thing, like my Turtle mask and shell. I got made fun of for those a lot. Sometimes I still do. I know Mom and Dad wish I was like other kids. Or even like Walt. He's more conventional."

"It would be boring if everyone was conventional," Vincent said.

"Yeah, that's what I think!" Zach exclaimed. "And when there's guys as awesome as the Ninja Turtles around, why wouldn't I want to be like them and have an exciting life?! Everything was so boring until they showed up."

"I'm sure sometimes the Turtles envy your quieter life," Vincent said.

Zach stared at him in shock. "No way! How could they?"

"You get to enjoy these early years of your life," Vincent said. "I imagine that isn't always easy for the Turtles to do when they have to worry about saving people from antagonists. I wouldn't be surprised at all if they didn't wish sometimes for some quiet days like normal boys have."

"I never thought of it like that," Zach blinked. "Fighting bad guys is fun for me, but maybe it really isn't always fun for them."

"And maybe it wouldn't be fun for you either, if you had to be on call all the time," Vincent said. "By keeping you an honorary Turtle and leaving you out of most battles, the Turtles have given you a great gift."

Zach didn't respond, but Vincent could see he was thinking hard about what was said. Vincent smiled. Hopefully it would help him.

xxxx

Barney collapsed in his car when they returned to the starting point out of necessity as the day drew to a close. He shut his eyes, leaning back against the headrest of the seat.

"Barney?" Baxter came and stood beside the open door. "Are you alright?"

"Are you really not tired?" Barney muttered in disbelief, not opening his eyes. "I know you love to walk. I like walking too, but not this much. And when it was all for naught, it's infinitely worse. If we had actually found Vincent alive and well, I would forget all about how my feet hurt. And my back. And my neck." He held a hand to his forehead. "Instead, there was no sign of him. And I feel like I exhausted myself for nothing."

"I'm very tired," Baxter said softly. "I've been very physically active, especially the last couple of years. Keeping myself afloat as a fly creature took a great deal of stamina and strength. As a human, I still love to walk, you're right. But it wasn't fun today." He walked around to the other side of the car and climbed inside. "I don't think I've ever been so completely worn-down from a walk. It's far more emotional than physical. I honestly thought there would be some sign of Vincent, or the boy, and instead there was nothing."

"I don't believe they're together," Barney growled. "I believe the boy is either lost or kidnapped by Big Louie's men. And Vincent . . . we probably brought home last night." His voice caught in his throat.

"Oh Barney. . . ." Baxter's eyes pricked with unshed tears. "I can't believe that. Not yet."

Barney turned away from him. "Then you're a fool. Accept it and be done with it. Vincent is dead."

Baxter flinched. He had been quietly taking a lot, but this was the last straw. "You're not the only person hurting here, you know," he snapped. "I'm not the submissive little weakling you used to push around. I'm tired of taking this from you! Vincent was my friend first. Don't you think I feel just as badly as you do?! Or is that simply not possible?!"

Now Barney flinched, but he didn't respond.

"I have feelings too, even though for most of our lives you paid no attention to that!" Baxter drew back from Barney and got out of the car, going over to where the Turtles were trudging into view.

"Hey, Baxter," Michelangelo said with a sad wave.

Baxter knew what that meant, but still he pleadingly asked, "Anything?"

"Nothing!" Raphael cried in frustration. "All day and diddly squat!"

"Don't worry, Baxter Dude," Michelangelo soothed. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Barney's giving up hope tonight," Baxter said. His voice broke.

"There is still hope," Splinter said. "We must believe in that. Young Zach is very likely still alive. Vincent may be alive as well." He paused. "I have not sensed that any great tragedy happened on this mountain."

"But does that positively mean they're both alive?" Baxter said softly.

"No, it does not," Splinter said. "But I choose to feel that they are."

"I want to believe that," Baxter said. "I still believe there's hope for your friend Zach. But for Vincent, I . . . I just don't know." He shook his head. "Barney is grieving so deeply, but he's bottling it inside, as usual. And I . . . I feel so lost. . . ." He hadn't meant to say that, but it slipped out.

Michelangelo pulled him into a hug. "It's gonna be okay, Baxter," he said. "I promise."

Baxter tried to smile as he leaned against his friend and into the welcome embrace. "I wish you really could promise. . . ."

"Hey, if Barney is too much of a pain, you could come back with us tonight," Raphael said.

"I couldn't do that," Baxter said. "He won't admit it, but I'm afraid that he wouldn't be able to stand it if I left him alone. He would feel like I'd abandoned him when he needed someone the very most."

"Just because you know he loves you doesn't mean you should have to put up with him treating you rotten," Raphael said.

"He doesn't know how to handle this," Baxter said. "Neither do I, really. I snapped at him and I didn't mean to. I just couldn't take it anymore. . . ." He trembled.

"Perhaps at least I should advise him that you are hurting as well and he is pushing you away," Splinter said.

"I'm sure he knows that," Baxter said, but he didn't protest Splinter's offer.

"I _do_ know that."

Everyone looked up as Barney spoke. He was approaching now, somber and guilt-stricken.

Raphael glowered at him. "Well?"

"Baxter, I'm so sorry." Barney's shoulders slumped. "I . . . I never meant to . . ." He swore under his breath. "I guess I'm taking you for granted, expecting you'll put up with whatever I throw at you because you always used to. That's outrageous. You're right, you're not that person anymore. And I never should have treated you so callously in the first place. Now, I . . . I can't do this without you. I know I don't deserve it, but please . . . please give me another chance."

Baxter softened. "Barney, I need you too," he said softly. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I need you so much." He stepped away from Michelangelo and over to Barney, holding out his arms to embrace him, but only if Barney wanted it.

Right now, Barney did. He fell into Baxter's arms, clutching at his brother as though he were a lifeline. "How do you do it?" he whispered. "How do you always forgive me?"

"That's part of love," Baxter said.

"And family," Leonardo quietly added.

"I've been putting so much on you," Barney said. "I know I'm not strong enough to handle it and you are." He trembled. "Only you're shattered inside too."

"If I wasn't trying to be strong for you, I would have fallen apart long ago," Baxter said. "You don't know how badly I wanted to attack Big Louie last night."

"You were always the strong one," Barney said. "I just don't know how to do it. I _can't._ It was the same when I thought you were dead. Vincent had to be strong for me because I'd fallen apart. I'm always leaning on someone else's strength. Or walling myself up to keep from showing I've fallen apart. It's a pathetic imitation of strength, not the real thing!"

"Sometimes," Splinter said kindly, "the strongest thing you can do is admit that you need someone."

"But I want to be someone people can lean on," Barney retorted. "I want my loved ones to be able to rely on me if they need it. Instead, I completely fold when there's trouble! I can't handle it. And my attempts at trying to hold it together only result in hurting others."

"Maybe," Baxter said, "if you could keep your defenses down more often, we could draw strength from each other."

"I try, but I never seem to succeed when it really counts," Barney said in disgust. "I can't stand being vulnerable. I never could."

"You helped me in Nightmare Land," Baxter said.

"After freezing up first." Barney looked away.

"Learning how to handle things with someone else takes time," Splinter said. "No one learns to be a family overnight."

"Especially if you've had colossal problems like you guys have," Raphael said. "But honestly, Barney, you really are trying. And you're getting better."

Barney turned to stare at him. "That . . . means a lot, coming from you," he said.

"Yeah, well . . ." Raphael looked embarrassed. "It's true."

"It is," Baxter agreed. "Of course there's still going to be mistakes. I made one just recently when I didn't realize how our father's actions could look hurtful to you. But I don't want to give up. We've made so much progress, Barney! That's worth our continuing efforts. That, and the fact that we care about each other enough to want to make this work."

"But can we get past this?" Barney asked. "What if this happened to the Turtles? Could even they get past it?"

The Turtles flinched at the thought and exchanged unsettled glances. Splinter answered. "It would be very difficult for a time," he said. "And of course, the pain of losing a family member would never entirely go away. But even death can be moved on from, and I believe the Turtles are strong enough that eventually they would find their way again."

"And if Vincent really is . . . gone, you know that he would want more than anything for us to remain a family in spite of it," Baxter said quietly. "We would both want to keep trying for him, wouldn't we?"

"Yes," Barney finally choked out.

"I still want to believe he _will_ come home," Baxter said. "But I know it looks bleak. If thinking he's dead is the only way you can deal with this, Barney, then that's your choice. But please allow me my choice as well."

Barney nodded. "I will," he promised. "I don't want to think he's dead. It's just that I don't understand how he could still be alive."

"There are still miracles in the world," Splinter said. "Perhaps he found one."

xxxx

Night had fallen at the bottom of the other side of the mountain as well. Vincent and Zach had made as much progress as they could, but they still hadn't made it to where they could go around it to the road. It only made it even more worrisome that the thugs were very likely still pursuing them. Night was almost a relief, as they could hide easier under the cover of darkness.

"We'll have to take shelter for the night and try again tomorrow," Vincent said. "This looks like an abandoned barn here." He pointed up ahead to an old structure on the left.

"It looks like it was condemned before it was built," Zach said, wrinkling his nose. "It'll probably cave in on us."

"At least it doesn't look as bad as the silo over there." Vincent indicated a building that clearly was falling apart, with holes in the walls and heavy metal sheets hanging by threads over other holes.

"Yuck," said Zach.

"Come on." Vincent led Zach into the barn. "We can be grateful that they cleaned it before they abandoned it."

". . . True." Zach sat down on an old bale of hay, rubbing at his leg.

Vincent sat next to him. "Are you alright?"

Zach smiled weakly at him. "Sure. Nothing to it." Vincent seemed to have endless stamina for walking, but he was always mindful that humans were not the same way. He had insisted that they stop several times to rest when Zach had looked worn-out. Of course, Zach actually had been flagging, but he hadn't wanted to admit it. Still, he had been grateful.

"We should be able to get back to the road tomorrow," Vincent said.

"Yeah, but we still won't be home-free," Zack frowned. "People don't pick up hitch-hikers anymore, right?"

"Not very often, I hope," Vincent said. "It's dangerous. But it would be nice if we could find someone willing to take a chance, wouldn't it?"

"I'll say," Zach said. "And if we get to the road, there should be an Internet signal!"

"Maybe," Vincent said. "It might still be too close to the mountain."

"But my Turtle-Comm should work then," Zach said. "I wonder if it doesn't have as long a range as the Turtles' Turtle-Comms. Seems like theirs wouldn't be stopped by a big old mountain."

"That might be something for you to check with Donatello when we get back," Vincent said. "It's possible they didn't give yours as long a range because they weren't expecting you to go very far."

"Or because I'm an _honorary_ Turtle," Zach sighed. "I know what you said and all, but I wish I could at least have the chance to be more involved so I'd know whether I'd like it!"

"You obviously have a great deal of knowledge about computers," Vincent said. "You could become a computer programmer. That could be fun and exciting and hopefully not dangerous."

"Yeah, Caitlyn and me both really like computers," Zach said. "But I want action too. I'd like to work with computers in the daytime and go crime-fighting at night!"

Vincent was amused. "When would you sleep?"

"I'd figure something out," Zach shrugged. "The Turtles manage!"

"But the Turtles don't exactly lead normal lifestyles," Vincent said. "They're not recognized as members of society the same way humans are, so they don't have a lot of the responsibilities that humans have. For instance, they don't have steady jobs the way humans are expected to."

"They don't need them," Zach retorted. "Crime-fighting is their steady job!"

"Maybe they can manage that way, but humans tend to need money," Vincent said.

"The Turtles have money," Zach said.

"And how they get it is a mystery," Vincent remarked. He leaned back, studying the boy. "You really are determined, aren't you."

"I want it so bad," Zach insisted.

"Then I guess you'll have to talk to the Turtles about it," Vincent said. "Me, I'd be content to never get involved. I'm not a fighter. But my family and friends keep ending up in trouble and I want to be there to help them. If not for that, I would probably stay out of it. You sound more like while you want to help the Turtles, you just think all the action would be fun in general."

"I guess so," Zach admitted. "But I really do want to help the Turtles! I actually did a lot to help out in the past. Well . . . the few times I was involved, anyway. I felt important, like I was really doing something useful."

"And you just don't feel important in your normal life," Vincent deduced.

"Not really." Zach opened his backpack and munched on what was left of the strawberries. They had mostly been consumed earlier in the day.

"Is that because of your parents' attitude or something else?"

"Everything, I guess," Zach frowned. "They still treat me like a kid, and Walt and me don't always get along, and the other kids think I'm weird. Except for Caitlyn. She's the only person who really _gets_ me, you know?"

"I know," Vincent said. "But I think for a lot of people, there's only one or two people who really 'get' them. And they're lucky to have that. Many people don't have anyone. I didn't have anyone for 483 years."

Zach shuddered. "That sounds awful."

"It was," Vincent agreed. "But I didn't even realize how awful until I had someone and could compare how it was before."

"So you're saying I should just be grateful for what I have and not keep trying for something else too?" Zach said.

"Not at all," said Vincent. "Yes, I think you should be grateful for what you have. It's more than a lot of people have. But if you want something else as well, you should work at that and never give up. I'm just suggesting that maybe there are other ways to have more, such as doing more with your interest in computers. And I guess I'm also saying that maybe you're idolizing the Turtles' lifestyle too much. But I'm sure they would tell you that themselves."

"Probably." Zach sighed. "Do you think we'll be home tomorrow?"

"Maybe tomorrow night, if we aren't able to catch a ride and have to walk back into town. We could get a bus or a cab from there."

"I don't really have any money," Zach said slowly. "Just the rest of this week's allowance, and that's really not much."

"I have money," Vincent said. "You know, I never did pay the cab driver. . . ."

For some reason, that struck Zach as funny. He laughed, slumping against Vincent as his stomach shook. When he finally settled down, he was practically coughing from laughing so hard.

"I'm not really sure why that's funny," Vincent said.

"It's not, really," Zach gasped. "It just kinda sounded funny to suddenly think about that after everything we've gone through since then."

"Oh. I guess it would," Vincent acknowledged.

"Speaking of having money, how do _you_ have any?" Zach wondered.

"The university pays me," Vincent replied.

"Wow, really?" Zach's eyes went wide. "That's awesome."

"I'm Barney's assistant, so I have to be paid," Vincent smirked. "Of course, there are idiots in town who think it's hilarious to pay a computer. I say all computers should be paid for the work they do! A lot of them probably work harder than the humans."

Zach blinked in surprise at Vincent's sudden passion. "Yeah, maybe some of them do," he said slowly. "But if they're not alive like you are, what would they do with salaries?"

"Well, their users would have to decide how to spend it on them," Vincent said. "But if they truly love their computers and value their work, they could think of something. More memory, bigger hard drives. . . . There are plenty of things to make the computers happier and more efficient."

"You really love computers," Zach remarked.

"That's logical, isn't it?" Vincent answered.

"Yeah. . . . Of course, I love computers too," Zach hurriedly added. "But I mean . . . I've never heard anybody go on about computer rights before."

"Barney tells me I'm very passionate about it," Vincent said. "Computers don't get enough credit. In this modern world, without them the city grinds to a halt."

"It sure does!" Zach exclaimed. "I remember when those digital monsters came out of computers all over the city. It was nuts!"

Vincent flinched. "Yes, it was terrible."

Something in the way he said it made Zach freeze. "Oh hey. Were _you_ affected by them?"

"I was." Vincent looked away. "It was one of the worst days of my life."

"I'm sorry," Zach said in chagrin. "I should've thought . . ."

"It's understandable," said Vincent. "You've never talked to a computer before."

"At least, not one that talked back!" Zach quipped. "I wonder what Mom and Dad and Walt are gonna say about this!"

"What do you think they'll say?" Vincent countered.

"I think they won't believe it unless they see you," Zach said. "Oh . . . but I guess if those St-your brothers are so worried about you, they will have told it all around about you by now."

"They will have," Vincent agreed.

"And Mom and Dad, at least, would probably worry whether you were on the level or if you'd hurt me," Zach said. "Walt . . . eh, I don't know what he'd think. Even with people talking about you, he probably really wouldn't believe it unless he saw you in . . . person?" He blinked, realizing the phrase didn't quite fit.

"And what if they all saw me? What then?" Vincent wasn't asking out of idle curiosity. He wondered whether Zach's family would prove dangerous to him.

"Then . . . I think they'd like you," Zach smiled. "You've been helping me and all." He started to lean against Vincent. Sleepiness was starting to set in.

Vincent reached into the backpack and pulled out the blanket. He spread it around Zach and then around himself before leaning back into the soft hay.

"Do you sleep?" Zach mumbled.

"All computers have a setting that says 'Hibernate' or 'Sleep,'" Vincent remarked. "Yes, I sleep. I even dream."

"Nice things?" Zach was definitely half-asleep now.

"Sometimes." Vincent relaxed more. Hopefully by this time tomorrow, they would both be home.

"I hope . . . we both have . . . nice dreams tonight," Zach mumbled. Then sleep fully set in and he slumped against Vincent's warm energy body.

Vincent drew a protective arm around Zach. He was a nice boy. Vincent had to wonder if he was anything like Baxter had been as a child. Not Barney, he supposed, since Barney had always been angry. But happy and excited about unique things sounded like Baxter, and well, Barney too had always been happy and excited about science, even though he had burned with anger over other matters.

He sighed sadly. He tried not to show his worry to Zach, but the longer this went on, the more he grew worried for his loved ones. The wrecked car had likely been found. And with the rainstorm on the mountain, Barney particularly was likely to fear that there was no hope for Vincent's survival. He and Baxter were probably tied up in figurative knots. Every few minutes Vincent tried and failed to get an Internet signal. It was useless.

At last he gave up and slipped to sleep, while at the same time making sure his sensors were alert for any possible trouble. They certainly didn't need those two morons to sneak up on them when they were vulnerable.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Well, what did you think of that voyage, Z?"_

 _"Highly disturbing. Everyone on that planet seemed to be full of the darkest feelings. They killed for the sake of killing. Why would anyone do that?"_

 _"I don't know, but I know I never want to go back there again."_

Barney folded his arms, staring sadly into the desktop computer screen. Sleep had scarcely come during the night, and now that it was morning, his loneliness and longing for his friend had spilled over. He had only found one way to deal with that. Of course, it wasn't helping. Not really. But he didn't know what else to do. He opened another file.

 _"Didn't you see how happy they were on that planet? The natives believed in friendship! Why can't we be like that? Why can't you be my friends?"_

 _"Friendship is detrimental, Z. If you care about someone else like that, you'll lose sight of your mission."_

 _"They used it to benefit their missions! They helped each other when they were in trouble and the mission was completed far more efficiently."_

 _"Didn't you see how that one man ended up in unnecessary danger protecting his 'friend'? Could you do that?"_

 _"Well, I . . . don't know. . . ."_

 _"It was completely illogical, Z. You know that we always believe the mission comes first. If we have to sacrifice one of us, it's regrettable but important. And it's far easier to deal with if we're not 'friends.'"_

 _"Do you think you're always right?!"_

 _"No, of course not. But our attitude has served us well for centuries. You'll come to understand that, Z. You're still new to this."_

 _"I'm fifty years old."_

 _"Then don't act like you're five."_

Barney frowned. He could certainly see the logic of the crewmember's argument. And there was something else to be considered too-opening your heart like that meant it could be shredded in pieces, like his has been. Oh yes, he had heard the tired old adege "Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all," and naturally he could never say that he wished he and Vincent had never met. Vincent had changed his life for the better and brightened it in so many ways. He liked to think he had been positive for Vincent too, as Vincent insisted.

The logical part of him knew that one could never love without the pain. How much and how deeply one had loved could be measured by the amount of pain they experienced when their loved one was gone. The part of him that felt like it was in tatters desperately longed for that to not be the case, as he wondered how to ever handle it if the pain would continue to be as bad as it was.

"Barney?"

He looked up as Baxter came to the doorway. Barney didn't speak, but he didn't look unwelcoming-just slightly guilty to have been caught.

"Barney, what are you doing?" Baxter slowly walked in and over to the computer. When he saw the media player open, he turned to look back at the locker. The door stood wide.

"I . . . wanted to be with him in some way," Barney said quietly. "This was the only way I knew to have our Vincent back, even for just a few minutes."

Baxter sat down next to him. "You've been playing his memories?"

Barney nodded. "For over an hour. I'm just picking and choosing random ones. It's definitely him; I hear him in his words and feelings. But . . . this voice. I don't recognize this voice. . . ."

Baxter gave him a sad smile. "That was how he sounded when I first met him," he explained. "After the ship fell apart and he directed me to put the motherboard in a desktop computer I could carry, his voice was different. He said it was the change in software. His voice hasn't changed since then, though, despite other software changes."

"Meaning what?" Barney grunted.

"Meaning I wonder if he used that as an excuse and in actuality he deliberately changed his voice," Baxter chuckled. "There was nothing wrong with his first voice, and maybe he saw no reason to change it with the aliens, but after centuries of being alone, he may have decided he wanted something different when company came along again."

"And he was too proud and vain to admit it," Barney smirked. "Oh Vincent. . . ."

"I wonder what this memory is," Baxter said, pointing to one labeled _Experiment._

Barney clicked it. The scene that loaded was foreign to both of them, but it had clearly happened less than two years earlier. An old laboratory had been broken into and Baxter in his twisted, cross-fused state was buzzing around the room, gathering vials and beakers.

"What . . . ?" Baxter said in confusion. "I don't remember this. . . ."

 _"Baxter,"_ said Vincent on the video, _"you realize this might not work."_

 _"Of course,"_ Baxter screeched, and both brothers cringed. _"But we have to try! You said this_ _ **might**_ _work!"_

 _"Yes, but it's a cure for regular mutations,"_ Vincent replied. _"Or at least it works on the planet Larson. Your DNA structure might not be able to handle it!"_

 _"Who cares?!"_ Baxter exclaimed. _"Things can't get any worse! Tell me what to do."_

Barney frowned. "We can skip this, if you want." He didn't say, but he was clearly troubled to be looking at Baxter in this form again.

Baxter shuddered. "No. . . . I really don't remember it, and I want to. Let's keep going."

On the video, Vincent was telling Baxter each step in mixing the anti-mutagen. Then without warning, April O'Neil appeared at the broken window. _"Oh wow!"_ she gasped. _"It's Baxter Stockman! And . . . a computer with a face?"_

". . . So this was before we tried to take over Channel 6," Baxter said in surprise.

 _"April, what's going on?"_ came Leonardo's voice. All four Turtles ran up near her.

 _"Look in there!"_ April cried. _"Baxter Stockman and some weird computer broke into this laboratory and are mixing up some formula!"_

 _"Oh great,"_ Raphael scowled. _"And I thought they were both history."_

 _"I didn't want Baxter to be dead,"_ Michelangelo frowned, _"but I'm not crazy about him causing more trouble, either."_

 _"They must be planning some terrible revenge on someone,"_ Donatello said.

 _"Well, if it's Shredder, what say we don't get involved?"_ Raphael smirked.

 _"I'll teach Barney not to help me!"_ Baxter ranted as he poured chemicals together. _"I'll teach him to fail on purpose!"_

In the present, Baxter flinched. "Oh. . . . This must have happened on the trip when I visited you. . . ."

Barney's eyes were narrowed, but he didn't speak. They had discussed it before, but they both still felt badly about it. He saw no point in bringing it up again.

In the video, the Turtles and April were baffled.

 _"Barney? Who's that?"_ Leonardo blinked.

 _"Whoever he is, we can't let them take their revenge on him!"_ Raphael cried.

But instead Baxter held up the bubbling substance. _"Okay! It's ready!"_

 _"Alright, Baxter. Pour it over yourself."_

 _"Then I'll be normal again!"_ Baxter exclaimed.

 _"If it works,"_ said Vincent.

 _"They're not after revenge?"_ Leonardo was surprised.

 _"Hey, he just wants to be a human being again,"_ Michelangelo realized.

At that moment, they seemed to fully realize they had company. Baxter turned, looking as intimidating as a fly creature could. _"Turtles! And . . . October O'Neil!"_

 _"You're off by six months,"_ April muttered.

 _"You're not going to stop me from using this anti-mutagen!"_ Baxter shrieked.

 _"Chill, Dude,"_ Michelangelo said, waving his hands. _"We don't wanna stop you, as long as you're only gonna use it on yourself."_

Vincent's expression was reflected by a nearby flask. He looked suspicious. _"Is that true?"_

 _"Sure, why not,"_ Raphael said. _"But the instant you try to splash it on us, oh, are you in trouble."_ He drew his sais.

 _"Stupid Turtles,"_ Baxter snapped.

 _"Nevermind them, Baxter,"_ Vincent soothed. _"Just think about being human again."_

 _"Yes. Of course."_ Baxter turned the beaker upsidedown and poured it over himself. _"Is it working?! Am I human?!"_

 _"No . . . but . . . Baxter, watch out!"_ Vincent exclaimed.

A portal whirled out from around Baxter, pulling him into it. He screamed in terror, desperately reaching out for Vincent while the Turtles and April were forced to leap away from the vortex's pull. _"Help me!"_ he cried out in terror.

 _"Baxter!"_ Vincent sounded completely helpless.

Somehow Baxter managed to grab onto Vincent before they were both pulled through into the dimensional limbo. The video ended.

Shaken, Baxter and Barney slumped back in the chairs. "I don't remember that at all," Baxter said, shaking his head. "It's like watching something that happened to someone else. I know it's me, but . . . I just can't bring it to mind."

Barney looked highly troubled. "I wasn't able to help you and you went off performing a dangerous experiment like that." He rubbed his forehead. "I should have tried again."

"I didn't give you any chance," Baxter said softly. "I remember hysterically accusing you and then flying off."

"I was . . . very shaken by both the accusation and my failure," Barney said. "I looked over my blueprints and tried to figure out where I'd gone wrong, but I never did get it to work."

Baxter turned to face him in surprise. "You really kept trying?"

"For some time," Barney said. "Until I accepted the job from Pinky McFingers and ended up in prison."

"I never knew." Baxter studied his brother. "I didn't think you'd do that when you were so angry at me."

"Even when I thought you'd done it to yourself, and even as I told myself you deserved it, I couldn't stand to think of you suffering like that," Barney confessed.

"I'm glad I finally know," Baxter said quietly. "Thank you, for trying so hard."

Instead of answering, Barney looked back to the list of files. " _Farewell_? What's that one?" He clicked it.

To both his and Baxter's surprise, the scene that loaded was Vincent's bedroom. He was standing in front of the mirror, presumably so that he would actually be visible in the memory.

 _"Hi, Baxter, Barney,"_ he greeted. _"I know we agreed that the back-up would only be used in case of an emergency, and if Barney's right that the back-up won't really be me, well, I guess I'm gone if you're seeing this."_

Baxter choked in grief-stricken sorrow. Barney just went stiff, staring at Vincent.

 _"I just want you to know I love you both,"_ Vincent continued. _"I know we didn't have much time together, but it meant everything to me. I wouldn't trade it for anything._

 _"I know it will probably be hard for you to look at and hear the memories, but I hope they'll give you some comfort. Or some of them might, anyway. I'm sorry about the not-so-pleasant ones. You can skip over them, delete them, whatever you want to do with them. I hope they won't give you too many sorry surprises._

 _"If I do have a soul, I'll still be thinking of you even now. And I'll do anything I can to get back to you and be with you. Maybe if I'm allowed to stay here, they'll let me watch over you and keep you safe?"_ Vincent's smile wavered. He didn't want to die.

"Oh Vincent," Baxter whispered.

 _"Well, I . . . guess this is it. Goodbye, my brothers. . . ."_ The video ended.

Barney's shoulders slumped. "Vincent really is gone," he said quietly. "I know you don't want to believe it, and I don't either, but how can we keep fooling ourselves? That laptop we brought back . . ."

"Might not be Vincent," Baxter insisted. "And we're going to look more on the mountain today."

Barney didn't answer. Instead he half-heartedly clicked another memory.

This file was solely audio. And when Barney heard the contents, he went sheet-white.

 _"I've hit the big time at last."_

 _"Baxter?"_

 _"Who said that? I am not Baxter!"_

Immediately Barney hit the Stop button.

"What was that?" Baxter blinked.

Barney started to get up without speaking. But then, thinking better of it, he said, "That was . . . when I first met Vincent."

Baxter's eyes widened. "Oh."

Barney shook his head. "I can't do this anymore. You can if you want. I . . . I'm going to go eat breakfast." He left before Baxter had a chance to reply.

Baxter frowned, looking back to the audio file. He was undeniably curious. What had that first meeting been like? He wanted to know. But on the other hand, Barney would have been raging about him, probably. Baxter wasn't sure he was up to hearing that. And Barney probably wouldn't want him to.

Baxter looked through the files until he found another space-era one. He would respect Barney's privacy.

xxxx

Vincent was the first one up that morning. He eased Zach away from him and slowly climbed down from the hay, making his way to the barn window. The sky was still overcast, but unlike yesterday's harmless clouds, these were clearly going to drop something. Vincent had learned that purple clouds and deep grayish-black clouds were the kind to watch out for. He shuddered. They couldn't stay here all day, but what would they do if the sky split open while they were completely unprotected in the open?

He folded his arms on the windowsill. When this was over, he was going to stock up on umbrellas and raincoats and never be without one or the other.

If it was ever over. . . .

His eyes narrowed. He couldn't give up. He had to believe that they would get home. He had to get back to Baxter and Barney, and he had to get Zach back to his family. It was too horrible to think that they wouldn't make it.

What about Big Louie's men, though? Were they still in pursuit? What if they were attacked again? Would he be able to protect Zach? Or would they both be taken prisoner?

"Vincent?"

He started and turned. Zach was sitting up and looking over at him, still sleepy. "Are we gonna go?"

"Yes," Vincent said slowly. "But there might be a problem. This time it looks like there's no possible hope it won't rain."

Zach got up and limped over to look out at the angry clouds. "Oh brother, that _does_ look bad," he agreed. "But we've gotta do it. . . ."

"I know." Vincent looked back to the window. "But we need to think about what to do if it pours when there's no place to run and hide." He tried not to let the fear seep into his voice, but Zach definitely heard it.

"Oh yeah," he frowned. "We'll have to come up with something before we go. How about . . ." He went back to the hay and got the blanket. After shaking out the stray straw, he brought it over to Vincent and started to drape it around his shoulders, over the keyboard of the laptop, and around the top of it like a hood. "This?"

Vincent looked down at Zach's handiwork in surprise. "This definitely helps," he agreed.

"If you need more, you can take my jacket," Zach offered.

"I couldn't do that," Vincent objected. "You need to keep warm."

"So maybe I'll come down with a cold," Zach said. "Getting wet is a lot more dangerous for you!"

"I can't deny it's dangerous," Vincent said with a shudder. "But a cold can sometimes lead to worse ailments."

"We'll worry about it later," Zach soothed. "Maybe we can get back to the city today. Or catch up with the search-and-rescue teams!"

"If it pours rain, there won't be any search-and-rescue teams," Vincent said quietly.

"That's true," Zach frowned. He started another energy bar as he headed for the door. "Guess we might as well get started."

Vincent trailed after him. "You're awfully mature for your age," he remarked.

Zach turned to look at him with round eyes. "You think so? The Turtles and Master Splinter have said that, but no one else has!"

"They know what they're talking about," Vincent said. "You could get in danger by helping me, yet you show no hesitation in doing it."

"That's what the Turtles do," Zach said. "They help whoever needs it, no matter the cost to themselves."

"Well, hopefully that won't be necessary." Vincent eyed the patches on the boy's Scout uniform. "How old are you, Zach?"

For a moment Zach looked trapped. Then he blurted, "I'm 15, just like the Turtles!"

"Really?" Vincent spoke mildly; he wasn't particularly angry at being lied to in this instance. "I'm not extremely familiar with these Earth Scouting programs, but aren't the patches on your uniform for an 11-year-old age group?"

Zach flushed and looked down. ". . . I told the Turtles I was almost 14 when we met. . . ."

"Why?" Vincent still spoke mildly.

"I didn't want them to think I was just a little kid," Zach admitted in resignation. "I was almost ten."

"You don't think they might have figured out the truth?" Vincent said.

"Oh, they probably did," Zach sighed. "They're so smart."

"But they felt you were worthy of being an honorary Turtle anyway," Vincent said.

"Yeah. . . . Maybe I should tell them the truth about my age," Zach mused.

"Maybe you should," Vincent agreed. "I'm sure they'd be glad you decided to tell the truth."

". . . Are you mad I lied?" Zach asked.

"Not when it's something so minor," Vincent shrugged. "If you lied about something serious, then I might be angry."

Zach made a face. "To a kid, it can be a pretty big thing."

"I know," Vincent said. "But your age isn't really relevant when we're wandering in the wilderness and desperately trying to find our way home."

". . . Okay, yeah, you've got a point," Zach said.

Thunder boomed in the distance and Vincent flinched.

"I don't think that was by us," Zach said.

"Actually, it sounded more like it was in the city," Vincent said.

"Uh oh," said Zach. "But hey, maybe it'll be over by the time we get there!"

"Maybe," Vincent frowned. But he wasn't convinced.

xxxx

"Maximum bummer, Dudes," Michelangelo sighed, staring out the Lair's grate as rain split the sky and pelted heavily on the streets. "With all this rain, they figure it's too dangerous to try to get up to the mountain for the search today!"

"And they're right," Donatello said. "There have been countless traffic accidents. And there's no way we can launch the Turtle Blimp and fly up there!"

"So we just have to do nothing?!" Raphael burst out. "Two of our friends are missing out there!" He gestured at the downpour.

"We can't deliberately do something dangerous," Leonardo frowned. "That won't help our friends."

"Like, what about Baxter and Barney?" Michelangelo asked. "They're probably gonna try to get out to the mountain anyway!" He pulled out his Turtle-Comm. "I'm gonna call them."

Baxter sounded strange when he answered, like his voice was uncontrollably choked up. "Hello, Michelangelo."

"Hey, Baxter," Michelangelo greeted, but without his usual joviality. "Some weather we're having, huh?"

"Barney is snarling about how we've had relatively good weather for ages and now this happens right when we actually need good weather," Baxter said. "I can't blame him; I'm feeling upset about it myself."

"So . . . what're you guys gonna do?" Michelangelo asked.

"We want to get up there and keep searching, but how can we?" Baxter sounded devastated. "It's going to keep raining in the city all day and into the night. And the current weather reports state that it's also raining on that mountain."

"Major bummer." Michelangelo's voice had gained an edge. Now he actually sounded bitter. "This is so uncool."

"I don't know what to think anymore," Baxter said sorrowfully. "I keep trying to hold on to hope, but it's looking less and less likely that Vincent could be alive. Has Donatello made any progress with that laptop?"

"Not really, Dude," Michelangelo said. "Why don't you tell him, Donatello?" He glanced over at the purple-masked Turtle.

"Well . . ." Donatello didn't look pleased to be put on the spot. "It's . . . coming slowly. I had to take the motherboard apart and salvage what I could inside, which wasn't much. I'll have to rebuild the rest of the motherboard with other pieces."

"And you can't tell from what survived if it's Vincent?" Baxter looked sick at the thought. If it was, and Donatello had to use other parts to revive him, would Vincent suffer an identity crisis? Or would they still be able to use the back-up motherboard to help him be himself again?

"I can't," Donatello said sadly. "I'm more inclined to say it's an Earth computer, but I just don't know." He paused. "Barney would probably know better than me, since he built the laptop, but . . ."

"I don't think he could handle that right now," Baxter said quietly. "Not unless he could determine that it wasn't Vincent. And even if he could, that probably wouldn't give him much hope at this point."

"I'll keep trying to test the parts of the motherboard to see if I can figure out what its systems are like," Donatello said. "If I could find and access some files, I'm sure I could tell if it's Vincent. The problem is that I can't test them until I have more to work with."

"I really doubt it's Vincent," Baxter said. "But Vincent being stranded on that mountain is looking less and less hopeful too."

"Is Barney being any less of a pain now?" Raphael asked.

"He's trying hard," Baxter said. Managing a smile, he added, "And he is behaving kinder towards me. I know there will still be problems, but it feels so good to have things going better right now."

"Totally gnarly," Michelangelo agreed. "Hey, since we can't get out of the city today, how about we come over there for extra support?"

"I'd like that," Baxter said.

"Then we'll be there!" Michelangelo promised.

xxxx

Barney trudged into the laboratory and over to the desktop computer. Baxter had left it on, but it had gone to screen saver. Barney waved the mouse to bring it back to Windows Explorer and quickly scrolled through the list of files until he came to the one he wanted.

He could feel his palms were clammy as he accessed the .EXE file Vincent had pointed out to him and Baxter. This was it. This was his chance to interact with Vincent again. He knew it wouldn't really be Vincent, and yet it was. It had to be, really, didn't it? It was a back-up. OMNUS had backed himself up and Baxter had indicated that the back-up had been exactly the same. Why wouldn't it be the same with Vincent? Maybe Barney was wrong. Maybe Vincent was closer to being right when he had originally encouraged this. It _was_ Vincent, wasn't it? But Vincent himself had doubted later. Still, Barney had to try.

"Vincent?"

Silence. Then, "Hello . . . Barney."

Barney's shoulders slumped with relief. It worked. And it was so good to hear Vincent's voice again, talking to him in real-time and not in a memory. . . . "I've missed you," he said softly.

"I've been right here. How may I help you?"

Barney slumped back into the chair. "I just wanted to talk to you," he said. "I've been . . . so unbearably lonely without you."

"Isn't Baxter around? And your friends?"

". . . They're not you." Barney frowned. His stomach was starting to knot. This hadn't been a good idea. He had known that, but he had fooled himself and tried anyway.

"That is true. What would you like to talk about?"

"Anything," Barney said helplessly. "No . . . how close we are . . . how you've helped me . . . how I don't know . . . how to stand it without you. . . ."

"I know you've talked about how much I mean to you, but it doesn't seem very logical to me. It relies so much on feelings."

Barney flinched. "But . . . you said that without feelings, we're like Foot Soldiers, and that wasn't logical. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, I do."

"So why are you acting like this?!" Barney cried. "You're Vincent. You're my closest friend. My _brother._ "

"True, I am all of those things."

Barney couldn't stand the vague tone any longer. "Friends and brothers don't act like this! Especially you. You've _never_ acted like this! You always made me question whether you were really only artificially intelligent because of how you thought for yourself and showed you had feelings! Finally I knew you were genuinely intelligent. There was no other explanation." He slammed his fists on the desk. "Vincent . . . !"

"Why are you growing so emotional, Barney?"

"Why?!" Barney's voice had climbed several octaves. "Because I can't take this anymore! I love you, Vincent. Don't you know that?! I _love_ you!"

"Love. . . . I have memories of you saying this. Of Baxter saying this. Of . . . me saying this. And yet I don't understand why I would say it. I don't know what love is, beyond the definitions in my dictionary. What is love? What does it feel like?"

Something inside Barney broke. "You didn't say it," he choked out. "It's all a mistake." He closed the program and leaned forward on the table, propping himself up on an elbow and digging his hand into his hair.

He had no memories of crying beyond his infancy. Even as a child he had gotten angry, screamed, roared, anything other than tears. A couple of times recently he had come close, but still nothing had happened.

This time it did. The tears came and just kept coming. The sobs rose in his throat and he shook uncontrollably. He sobbed so hard he felt he might choke. He didn't even try to make it stop, but he doubted he could have stopped if he had tried.

He barely even heard Baxter at the doorway. "Barney?!" He sounded alarmed, panicked, even. "Barney, what is it?! What happened now?!" He ran in and over to his twin. He had never seen Barney like this. It was worrisome, even frightening, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it.

"It's not Vincent," Barney rasped. "I . . . I knew it wouldn't be, but I . . . I was so desperate I had to try. . . ."

Baxter looked to the highlighted program file and realized what Barney had done. "Oh Barney. . . ." He bent down, hugging the other man close. "I'm so sorry. . . ."

"It doesn't have feelings, Baxter!" Barney clutched at Baxter as though Baxter was his sole lifeline. "It's cold and lifeless. It's the memories, the voice, but not the being. Vincent is dead and he didn't come back through the back-up! He had a soul, but . . . his soul is gone. . . ."

Baxter was crying now too, although he tried not to let Barney see. "I knew it wouldn't work," he said softly. "You can't copy a soul. . . ."

"I just want him back," Barney said helplessly. "But it's the same as with any organic lifeform: you can't bring back the dead."

Baxter knew that Barney hated empty words such as "keep them in your heart and they'll never die." And at the moment, Baxter wasn't too crazy about them himself. That wasn't Vincent either; just a collection of memories, the same as the back-up. There was the difference that there _were_ feelings present, but it still wasn't the same.

"No," Baxter said finally. "You can't."

xxxx

It was both a relief and an amazement to see the road at last. At the same time, it was a frustration and a concern that rain was clearly visible pounding the road up ahead.

"Uh oh," Zach gulped. "What are we gonna do?"

Again Vincent tried and failed to get a signal. "Is your Turtle-Comm working at all?" he asked.

Zach took it out. "It still isn't!" he said in frustration. "It's either the mountain or the storm that's keeping it down, but either way, we're in trouble!"

A bullet fired just to their right and Vincent jumped a mile. "We're in even more trouble now!" he exclaimed. He looked to Big Louie's men in annoyance. "Don't you boys ever give up?"

"We're paid not to," the first retorted. He sniffled.

"You guys are seriously lame," Zach jeered. "You're even coming down sick, all to get at us! You probably wouldn't have the strength to cart us away even if you got us!"

"And you don't have anywhere left to run except right into the storm," the second mocked. "There's no cars coming."

"Aren't there?" Vincent said mildly.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" scowled the first.

"Did you really walk all the way here?" Vincent said. "Or did you go back to your car and come around here to wait, knowing that eventually we would have to show up here if we were alive?"

"Do you see a car?" said the second, but he sounded nervous.

"No, but you probably hid it underneath all those branches," Vincent replied, pointing to a very odd bush Zach hadn't noticed before.

The first drew his gun. "Try to drive off in that and I'll blow out all the tires," he threatened.

"Really?" Vincent still sounded mild. "And strand all of us here? The rain is coming this way."

The thug fired. Vincent dove out of the way, pulling Zach with him. As they hit the grass and rolled towards the hidden car, Vincent blasted out at their enemies.

Zach leaped up and started pulling branches away from the car. "I can get it unlocked!" he volunteered. "I have a lockpick in my Junior Detective Kit!"

"My, what _will_ they give children next?" Vincent smirked. He leaped to his feet, blasting the second thug back as he tried to hit one of the front tires.

"I got it!" Zach called.

"Get in!" Vincent ordered. He blasted again for good measure and scrambled into the driver's seat. From there, it only took a moment to access the car's computer and start the engine. The thugs watched in a mixture of disbelief and horror as Vincent pealed off in their car.

"Alright!" Zach laughed. "That was awesome!"

"Once we get back to civilization, we'll call the police," Vincent said. "Hopefully we'll start picking up a signal as we draw closer to town."

"Then it'll be back to my boring old life," Zach sighed.

"Surely you'd rather have that than this," Vincent retorted.

"Yeah, I guess," Zach said slowly. "I sure feel awful about anyone who's been worried. But . . . I don't know, it's been nice . . . having an adventure with a friend."

Vincent reached to turn on the windshield wipers as they drove into the rain. He shivered, relieved beyond belief that he wasn't out in it. "We're friends?" he said in pleased surprise. "I know I instantly decided to be friends with Baxter, but most humans don't like to rush into it."

"I know it's only been three days," Zach said, "but after everything we've been through, we can't be anything other than friends! Right?" Suddenly he looked worried, wondering if Vincent would reject him.

Instead, Vincent smiled. "Of course."

Zach relaxed. "And you won't forget me, will you? You'll email me or come see me sometimes?"

"I promise," Vincent said. He stared as the amount of rain on the road splashed upward on both sides of the car as they drove through it. "But clearly we're not out of danger yet. Getting home could still be a challenge."

"No kidding," Zach gasped. "Gee, I hope the Turtles won't get flooded out. . . ."

"I'm sure they've made provisions in the Lair for situations like this," Vincent said.

"Yeah, probably." But Zach still looked worried.

xxxx

Barney had finally calmed down, much to Baxter's relief. But after locking the back-up away in the locker again, he had moved to the living room and was sitting and staring hopelessly at the front door. Baxter perched on the edge of the couch, tense. He had to wonder if this was much of an improvement.

"It's strange," Barney said at last. "I used to fool myself into thinking that I had everything. I had a good job, money. . . . I bought this house, the car . . . all the material possessions I could ever want. I told myself that I controlled my destiny, that I could do whatever I wanted. But I was empty inside. I hated my family; I had no friends. People didn't respect me. This house wasn't a place I looked forward to coming back to. I bought it to impress high society. Oh, they were impressed, alright, but I was still nothing to them. They were impressed by the house, not by me. I always knew that."

Baxter laid a hand on Barney's shoulder. Barney didn't flinch or shrug him off. He just gave a sad sigh.

"I was so angry that I started not caring anymore what I had to do to try to get recognition. Or I told myself that, at least. I got into crime, went into prison. . . . My anger just kept building. It scared me, but I didn't want to listen to that part of myself. I shut it out. And kept shutting it out, until I . . . couldn't anymore. I'd almost killed you because of that anger. And that was unacceptable."

"Barney . . ." Baxter watched him, not sure whether to speak. Barney didn't usually feel like opening up like this. Baxter didn't want to break the spell and stop him.

Barney didn't seem about to stop. "Then I found him. . . . Or he found me, whichever. I didn't know what to make of him at first. . . . But I'd never had your aversion to artificial intelligence, so I went with it. Over time I started to realize that he couldn't be artificially intelligent. But that was impossible, so I shut that out too.

"I didn't shut him out, though. No matter what I thought he was, I knew he was something special. I felt comfortable talking to him, telling him everything about myself. I'd never felt that way with anyone before. And even though he'd hated me at first, he was willing to give me a chance. Without us even fully realizing it, we became so close. He slipped under all my defenses, my barriers, and into a heart aching with a lifetime of pain that hadn't been dealt with. He did so much to mend me back then. But now . . . now he's gone." He looked back at Baxter. "How am I supposed to deal with that?"

Baxter shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly. "When I thought he was dead in the console explosion, I went all to pieces. But I don't want that to happen to you, Barney. He would certainly never want it. And . . . if you fell apart, I might too."

Barney propped himself up on the couch arm. "The house never felt big or intimidating after we shared it together. . . ."

"How does it feel now?" Baxter asked.

Barney turned to look at him. "Lonely. . . . Wrong. But . . . not big or intimidating. There's still warmth here, from you."

Baxter managed a smile. "I'm glad."

"And . . . I still feel his influence," Barney mused. " _He's_ not here, but I feel how he touched every room. And my life, in so many ways. . . ."

"You'll always have that," Baxter said. "So will I."

"I've raged so many times in the last several days that loving someone has to come with so much pain," Barney growled. "But I know there's no way around that."

"No, there isn't," Baxter agreed.

"It gets worse, though." Barney scowled at the front door. "You're right that we don't conclusively know Vincent is gone. And as long as we don't, I'm probably going to keep fooling myself that someday he might come back." He slumped down on the couch arm. "I don't want to be that way. I want to be logical, to accept that it's over. But when it comes right down to it, I _can't._ "

"I still want to believe he's out there too," Baxter said. "He's very resourceful. But more than that, he's a survivor. Who would have thought that he could make it through everything he already survived?"

"Who would think his luck would hold out forever?" Barney countered. "I was the one who kept insisting we needed to accept his death, and yet . . . now I can't really make myself believe that it's over for him. Especially when I see my concerns realized in the back-up. That's not Vincent."

"Well . . . it is," Baxter mused. "Maybe that's how he was when he first came to be. Naturally he wouldn't have understood emotions and feelings right away. But the back-up isn't _our_ Vincent, it's true. And he never would be. If he could develop as Vincent did, he would still develop into his own being."

"Exactly." Barney looked up again. "So all we're left with are the memories . . . and the foolishly illogical longing that he'll still come home."

"Maybe he will come home," Baxter said softly.

Barney partially wanted to say _"We both know different,"_ but he restrained himself. Instead he just looked down.

Baxter shifted. He hadn't mentioned anything about the state in which he had found Barney, nor was he sure he felt comfortable doing so. He had never seen Barney cry. He even remembered how students had joked as far back as elementary school that Barney was incapable of it, that he'd be far more likely to knock someone's teeth out or tear a room apart. Alright, tearing a room apart he might have been able to do, but he hadn't been physically strong enough to knock out anyone's teeth. He still wasn't. Seeing him sobbing uncontrollably from his broken heart had haunted Baxter to the core.

Barney didn't seem inclined to talk about it either. He propped himself up on an elbow and focused his attention on the end table across the room.

Finally Baxter shook his head. It didn't really need to be discussed. Barney would bring it up if he wanted to.

The knock at the door brought their attention up. For a moment, hope flashed through Barney's eyes. But it was quickly dashed when Michelangelo's voice called, "Hello?"

"Four soaking wet Turtles and one rat for your conversation pleasure," Raphael added.

Baxter chuckled under his breath and got up. "I'm coming," he called.

Barney sat back and watched as Baxter let their friends in. He was happy to see them and angry at himself for his foolishness. He would have to learn not to jump up every time someone was at the door. He could fool himself all he wanted, but he knew Vincent would never really come home.

xxxx

The rain was still pouring as Vincent and Zach reached the outskirts of the city. Waves of water had been splashing the car all along the way from other passing vehicles. And to Vincent's absolute aggravation, he still couldn't get a signal.

"This storm is preposterous," he scowled. "Your Turtle-Comm still won't work either?"

Zach took it out and opened it. "Not a bit," he sighed.

"I wonder if weather like this is common," Vincent frowned.

"We have lots of rain in Spring, sure," Zach said. "But it's usually not this bad!"

"It's just our luck, isn't it?" Vincent regarded the traffic ahead of them in frustration. "And these people are moving at a crawl."

"Do we really have to stop somewhere and call the police for those two goons?" Zach sighed.

"I don't think we can get out of this bottleneck any time soon," Vincent said. "By the time we can break away, we might be close to my house. It will probably come up before yours."

"Why don't we just plan to go there then?" Zach pleaded. "You need to get home and we can use the phone there."

"I wonder if the phones are out all over the city," Vincent remarked. "Of course, Barney has a generator, but that's just for electricity. Maybe we could rig something up, though. . . . We'll have to see. And not get ahead of ourselves. It looks like we're moving a block an hour."

Zach groaned and slumped down in the seat. After a moment he dug in his backpack and pulled out his canteen. After unscrewing the lid, he tipped his head back and tried to get the last remaining drops out of it.

"You're lucky you had a full canteen when you first found me," Vincent commented.

"Yeah." Zach sighed. "But there wasn't much left for today. Now the rest of it's gone." He leaned against the inside of the door, propping himself up with a hand to his forehead. "I'm thirsty. . . ."

"You're probably starting to experience mild dehydration," Vincent said. "I don't suppose the crooks have any water in the car. . . ."

Zach made a face. "I wouldn't drink any water of theirs unless it wasn't opened!"

"I suppose if one is concerned about germs, that makes sense," Vincent mused. "But you might get so desperate for some that you'd decide you wanted it anyway."

Zach opened the armrest between the seats. "Hey, there is a small bottle of water here." He tried the lid. "And it hasn't been opened!"

"Good," said Vincent, pleased.

Zach unscrewed it and immediately took a big gulp. "That really hits the spot," he said in delight.

Vincent smiled. "When we get home, Barney will have more water for you. And food."

"Great!" Zach exclaimed. "I guess I am pretty hungry. . . . Energy bars and strawberries aren't really a full meal. . . ."

"No, they wouldn't be," Vincent agreed. "Although it seems like young boys can generate a lot of energy just from a small amount of food."

"Dad says that too," Zach said. "Yeah, if exciting things are happening, I can forget I haven't eaten much. But then it all comes back and hits me eventually."

"Barney has the same problem sometimes when he gets involved in projects," Vincent said.

"What are they like?" Zach wondered. "Baxter and Barney, I mean. All I know is what I see on the news."

"Baxter is pretty much what you see," Vincent said. "He's kind, compassionate, loves science. . . . Maybe a little arrogant sometimes. . . . He can snap at people when he's angry, but usually he quietly takes what's stacked on him until something finally gives and he just _can't_ anymore. The sorrows of his past molded him from naive to bitter, and the kindnesses he finally experienced healed his mind and renewed his faith in humanity. He fears pain and being hurt, but he won't abandon you and he'll fight to the death for you if it comes to that. He's a very gentle, loving soul." He gazed into the rain. "And he's the greatest guy in the universe."

"You really love him," Zach said in some surprise.

"Of course I do. And I feel exactly the same about Barney. He's darker than Baxter, angrier . . . but no less kind and no less interested in science. He lost his way for a while, as did Baxter, but his true nature was always there, even when he didn't listen to it. He loves so deeply that he can be crushed to pieces when something goes wrong. Love that fierce scares him. He doesn't know how to handle it. Don't ever let anyone tell you that Barney is aloof and uncaring. No matter what he says or how angry he gets, or how much he says he doesn't care, he does. He absolutely does. And he will also give his life for that love, or even to right a wrong that he feels he committed."

"They both sound like really amazing guys," Zach breathed.

"They are so very special," Vincent said. "And I will do anything I can for them."

"I think you really will," Zach said. "Especially since you've been doing everything you can for me, and you don't even know me. How much more would you do for your brothers?"

"Nothing could be too good or too much for me to do for them," Vincent said with absolute conviction. "They're my whole world."

"Wow." Zach leaned back in the seat.

"Doesn't your mother say things like that about you and your brother?" Vincent asked. "I've heard that's how most mothers tend to feel about their children."

"Yeah, she does," Zach said slowly. "I guess I always just thought of it as a 'mom' thing to say. You know, something that all moms say just because it's . . . in their contract or something. I wasn't even sure she really meant it, especially when she and I just don't see eye to eye much."

"I believe that most parents love their children," Vincent said, "and that for most of them, their children are their whole world. Any that feel differently may someday regret their priorities."

"That's sure something to think about," Zach said.

"Isn't it," Vincent remarked.

xxxx

The mood at the house was sad and grim. Barney was happy to see the Turtles and Splinter, but he wasn't really in a conversational mood. Baxter tried to pick up the slack, and the Turtles and Splinter certainly understood Barney's lack of enthusiasm, but the dark cloud hung over all of them.

"Like, I'm majorly bummed we weren't able to go out looking today," Michelangelo finally said. "Rain is gnarly and all, but not when Vincent and Zach are out there in it somewhere."

"There hasn't been any news about Zach at all?" Baxter asked in concern.

"Zero," Raphael said. "His parents are climbing the walls."

"And Walt won't admit it, but he's pretty worried too," Leonardo said.

"We all are," Michelangelo said. "Zach's our bud!"

"It is quite concerning," Splinter said. "Especially when he is so young."

"I'm so sorry," Baxter said.

Barney nodded. "He has a better chance than Vincent, though," he said. "I should have thought about weather problems and tried to invent something for Vincent to keep him safe in the rain. Or at least bought him a raincoat. Something, _anything. . . ._ " He leaned forward on the couch. "But then again, we don't even know that wasn't him we brought back the first night. . . ."

"I really think it isn't," Donatello said. "I just can't find any trace of what could have been the solid energy generator. I'm still trying to piece together the motherboard, but it's slow going. There'll probably be very little left of the original by the time I can get it running again. Of course . . ." He hesitated. "If it _is_ Vincent, he probably won't be the same. He couldn't be; he'd have hardly any of his original systems and memories."

"We have a back-up of those," Baxter said quietly.

"But it's not a back-up of Vincent," Barney said, his tone morose.

"I don't understand," Donatello blinked.

Barney looked up. "Baxter and Michelangelo were right all along. Vincent has a soul. I just tested the back-up's interaction feature. It isn't 'on' all the time, and I'm grateful Vincent had the foresight not to do that with it." He shook his head. "It's not him. It has the memories, yes, and even the voice . . . but not the feelings. Those are exclusive to Vincent."

Donatello's eyes widened. He looked surprised, even stunned. "Oh. I . . . I see."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Splinter said. "But I am most sorry."

Raphael also looked like he hadn't expected to hear such a thing. "So he's really gone then," he said.

Leonardo wouldn't scold him. Raphael almost looked like he'd been slapped. "We're all sorry," he said. "Vincent was becoming our friend and we would have liked to have known him better."

"Well, I still say we can't count him out yet," Michelangelo insisted. "He could still be out there! Sure some back-up thingie wouldn't be him! I could have told you that." He looked down. "I . . . I mean . . . I didn't mean to sound so harsh there . . ."

"We know, Michelangelo," Baxter said kindly. "Barney never really believed the back-up idea would work, but he decided it was worth a try when Vincent suggested it. And having his memories is something we'll always cherish. But meanwhile . . . neither of us can bear to give up on him either. I think . . . deep down, we'll never stop hoping we'll find him . . . or that he'll come home."

Donatello almost looked like he wanted to warn against harboring such false hopes, but Leonardo caught his eye and shook his head. It wasn't necessary.

"We'll start looking again as soon as we can get up to the mountain," Leonardo said.

"Right!" Michelangelo nodded. "And we'll find him and Zach both! And everything'll be bodacious again and it'll be like old times . . ." He trailed off. It sounded hollow even to him.

Baxter gave him a weak smile. "We'll all keep looking," he vowed. "And praying."

"Stupid question," Raphael said, "but did Vincent have a religion?"

"No," Barney said. "But he wanted to think God would accept him here on Earth. I suppose you could say that he was trying to think of God as Baxter and I do, so maybe to some extent he was claiming our religion as his, or hoping to."

Baxter nodded. "He's prayed sometimes, usually for our safety."

Raphael frowned. "I wonder if the humans would have ever accepted him if he showed up wanting to worship somewhere."

"I think that would depend on where he went," Baxter said. "Some people are accepting and some aren't, the same as anywhere else."

"There's still a lot of people who aren't crazy about mutants," Raphael said.

"But there are certainly more who are than there were a year ago," Baxter said.

"I can't argue with that," Leonardo said. "And it's been nice, to say the least."

Barney took a notion to glance at the clock. "It's late," he said in surprise.

"Oh my goodness." Baxter stared at it. "Have you had dinner yet?"

"Nope," Michelangelo said.

"But we wouldn't want to impose," Leonardo quickly added.

"It wouldn't be an imposition." Baxter got up and started for the kitchen. "Barney's started stocking frozen pizza. I can just put a couple in the oven and maybe make some soup for Splinter."

Michelangelo's eyes went round. "Really?! Alright!"

"You are very thoughtful," Splinter said. "But it isn't necessary, especially in such a time of sadness for you."

"I need to do something or I don't know how I'll stand it," Baxter said.

"You _do_ know how to be a good host," Raphael said appreciatively.

Barney looked a little embarrassed but pleased. "I imagined that your other friends keep a steady supply of pizza. I thought we should follow suit."

"Mondo notion!" Michelangelo cheered.

"Not to mention that we like pizza too," Baxter chuckled.

"Well, like, sure," Michelangelo said. "Who doesn't? Besides Master Splinter and the Frogs, I mean. Heck, we even got the Frogs to like it, as long as it has their kind of toppings."

"There _are_ some who absolutely can't stand it, as unbelievable as it sounds," Leonardo said.

"Yeah, I just don't believe it, Dude," Michelangelo said. "They probably only think they don't like it 'cause they haven't tried the right kind yet!"

"And what is the 'right kind'?" Barney asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Whatever kind truly speaks to their heart . . . er, stomach," Michelangelo said.

Baxter looked amused as he vanished into the kitchen.

It was after he had put two hefty DiGiorno's pizzas in the oven and put on some soup he thought Splinter might like that he returned to the living room. At the same moment, there was definite noise on the front porch. Everyone snapped to attention.

"Like, is someone out there or is that just the wind?" Michelangelo wondered.

That question was answered when the front door opened and an unbelievable sight met their eyes. All of them leaped up.

"Vincent?!" Baxter and Barney cried.

"Zach?!" the Turtles burst out.

Then they were all rushing at each other, offering tight hugs and exclamations of joy that blended together as everyone spoke at once.

"This is most wonderful," Splinter declared. "You are both alive and well!"

"Microdude! Everybody's been worried sick!" Michelangelo said to Zach.

"The Turtle-Comm didn't work!" Zach explained. "We kept trying, but . . . my family's been worried too?"

"Of course!" Raphael retorted. "And all of us."

"Vincent! We were afraid you were dead!" Baxter exclaimed.

"I'm so sorry," Vincent said. "I kept trying to get an Internet signal. It was hopeless. Then we got stuck in traffic and we couldn't get out until we were almost here. . . ."

"You came home," Barney said, almost reverently. "You really did come home. . . ." He looked up at his cherished friend. "I tried the back-up. It wasn't you." He clutched at Vincent. "It wasn't. . . . How did you survive?!"

Vincent pulled back just enough to unwind the blanket poncho. "Zach," he smiled.

Baxter and Barney immediately looked to the boy. "Thank you," Barney said, his voice choked with emotion.

"You brought our brother safely home," Baxter concurred.

"We helped each other," Zach returned. "I couldn't have made it back without him!"

"Then let's set another place at the table and get Zach's family called," Michelangelo exclaimed. "And April! She's been mondo worried too!"

"We also need to call the police about a couple of Big Louie's men who were chasing us," Vincent said. "They're probably long gone by now."

"It was their car we brought back!" Zach said.

"I'd say you two have some stories to tell," Leonardo smiled big. "But right now, we're just so happy you're both back."

"Totally!" Michelangelo grinned.

Vincent hugged Baxter and Barney again. "And I'm so happy to be home."


	4. Chapter 4

Vincent stood in front of the upstairs bathroom mirror as he washed up at the sink. The clothes he had been wearing he had placed in the laundry. He would see about doing the wash later. As long as he was careful not to get any water inside the laptop, he wanted to freshen up after that experience. Of course, one solution would be to will the energy-generated body away and then bring it back; it would be fresh then. But that was the easy way out. Vincent preferred finding solutions that never required the removal of the body. After taking care of it, he ran a wrung-out damp cloth around the laptop, wanting to feel completely clean.

Zach was in the bathroom downstairs, also cleaning up. He didn't have any spare clothes, but Barney had offered one of his robes while they waited for Zach's family. The boy had accepted, seeming amazed.

Vincent hoped that Zach would be able to let go of at least some of his jealousy by being around the Stockman brothers. They were endlessly grateful to him for helping Vincent. And Vincent intended to briefly speak with the Turtles about allotting Zach some more time in the future. He deserved that.

He took a towel to dry himself off before tossing that down the laundry chute as well and heading out to go across the hall to his room. He didn't need to be discreet, since as Barney had pointed out, he hadn't designed his body with anything that needed to be covered up.

He wasn't surprised to find Barney outside the bedroom door, watching him approach, clearly still reeling. "Are you alright, old buddy?" Vincent asked.

"I thought you were dead," Barney repeated. "I thought there was no way you could have survived. The cab exploded . . . and the driver abandoned his laptop and it was hurt. . . . We thought it was you. And then all that rain on the mountain. . . . It seemed hopeless."

Vincent stiffened. "The driver had a laptop?!"

Barney nodded. "Donatello is trying to repair it. . . . We wanted to fix it even if it wasn't you. Baxter said how horrible you'd feel about it being left there."

"That driver was cruel and careless," Vincent said bitterly. "If only I'd known it was there . . ."

"You couldn't have known," Barney said. "You had no reason to check."

"I always will in the future." He gave Barney an urgent look. "Do you think it can be repaired?!"

". . . We're not sure," Barney finally admitted. "Probably the only way is to combine parts and pieces from other old motherboards."

"That poor computer won't know who it is anymore," Vincent frowned. "But I guess that would help give it and other computers a second chance. . . ."

"Maybe Donatello can salvage enough that it won't have a complete identity crisis," Barney said. A year ago he would have found such a discussion utterly preposterous. Now it seemed perfectly natural to converse with a computer about computers' feelings.

"Maybe. I hope he can. And you thought it was me? Oh Barney. . . ." Vincent looked at him sorrowfully. "If I could only take it back. . . . You and Baxter must have been suffering so much. . . ." He paused. "You said you tried the back-up?"

"I had to," Barney confessed. "But it didn't understand feelings. It wasn't you." He stepped closer to Vincent. "I have my final proof. You have a soul. There is no other explanation."

Vincent gave him a sad smile. "I'm glad to know that, but I wish it hadn't come at the cost of you and Baxter being so heartbroken." He stepped into his room and went to the closet for some fresh clothes. He didn't mind if Barney stayed.

Barney leaned against the doorframe, just watching him. He had thought Vincent was gone for good, even though he had clung to some threads of hope in spite of himself. And here Vincent was, alive and well, slipping into some Bermuda shorts and one of those loud Hawaiian shirts. He was home.

"Where's Baxter?" Vincent wondered.

"I'm here," Baxter said, stepping out from the hall. "I wanted to give you and Barney a few minutes alone first." He smiled in joy. "Vincent, we missed you so much!"

"And I missed you and Barney," Vincent said. "But at least I didn't have to think you were dead. I'm so sorry you had to think I was."

"You're safe. That's the most important thing," Baxter said.

Vincent hesitated. "Did you . . . see the back-up too?"

"I wasn't there when Barney tried to interact with it," Baxter said. "But we saw some of your memories." He paused. "We saw the one where you tried to help me with some formula for undoing my mutation. I don't even remember that happening."

"That was when April and I first encountered each other," Vincent remarked. "But I'm sorry you had to see that one, Pal. I was thinking that maybe I should mark the memories that you might be upset by so you won't stumble on them unaware."

"That's a very thoughtful idea, Vincent," Baxter said.

Barney was silent a moment. "We also found the message you'd left for us."

"Oh." Vincent looked a little awkward now, perhaps even embarrassed. "I wasn't sure at first whether to even let you see that. I thought maybe I'd delete it before you had the chance. I thought it might make you feel too sad."

"Naturally we were sad," Baxter said. "That's a mild word for it. But it was so moving to see you address us like that. We'd never want you to erase that clip."

Barney nodded. "That's true. It was very . . . meaningful. You're always thinking of us, Vincent."

"Of course," said Vincent. "You both made my life meaningful. I could never not think of you." He stepped into the hall with them. "Where are the Turtles and Splinter?"

"Downstairs eating pizza and soup," Baxter chuckled. "And they're very happy to see you too."

"Do you think Zach's family will be?" Vincent looked a little nervous now.

"You helped Zach," Barney said. "If they have any sense at all, they'll be grateful to you."

"I hope so," Vincent said. "I made a new friend in Zach. I would hate for his family to hate me." 

"I can't think they would," Baxter said.

They headed downstairs. When their friends saw them coming, they all brightly looked up. "Hey, Vincent!" Michelangelo grinned. "You're really okay!"

"Yes," Vincent smiled. "And I'm so happy to be home."

Raphael gave him a thumbs-up. "You're lookin' good. Especially since we thought you could be permanently burned out or shorted out."

Vincent shuddered. "Just about anything would look better than that."

"Indeed," Splinter agreed. "Young Zach did very well in protecting you."

"Some of our students came to help look for you yesterday," Barney said.

"Really?" Vincent looked both surprised and pleased.

"They skipped the day's classes," Baxter said. He smiled. "They really care about you and Barney."

"I'm very happy they do," Vincent said. He looked to Barney. "You _have_ made a positive impact in their lives, Buddy."

Barney nodded, looking humbled. "There's no doubt of that now, but it's still incredible to realize. I don't remember any of the previous classes I taught caring so much."

"Maybe because you were too angry," Raphael shrugged.

"Yeah, like, you're not so prickly now, Dude," Michelangelo said.

"I suppose not," Barney mused.

Silence fell and Vincent looked to the Turtles. ". . . This may be an awkward time to say this, but it should probably be said before Zach comes back in or his family arrives," he decided. "Zach misses all of you. He feels left-out lately."

The Turtles looked to each other in chagrin. "I guess we haven't seen too much of him for a while," Leonardo realized.

"I just figured he'd gotten on with his own life," Raphael said.

"Oh, he still idolizes all of you," Vincent said. "And your lifestyle. He was telling me he wanted to be a computer programmer in the day and fight crime at night."

"Like, when would he sleep?" Michelangelo blinked.

Vincent smirked a bit. "That was what I asked." Sobering, he continued, "He felt he could make it work because all of you do it."

"Uh oh." The Turtles exchanged another look.

"We'd really better talk with him," Donatello said.

"I would strongly advise it," Splinter nodded.

"And try to make some time for him in the future," Vincent said. "He seems to relate more to you than he does to his own family."

"We should," Leonardo agreed. "I didn't realize his feelings went that deep. . . ."

"I don't think any of us did," Donatello said in dismay.

Zach came out then, freshly showered and wearing the robe, which was dragging on the floor. He tried to quietly hold it up so he wouldn't trip. "Hi, guys!" he chirped.

"Hello, Zach," Leonardo smiled. "Your family should be here soon."

"Well, that's good," Zach said slowly. He sat down at the table and reached for a piece of pizza.

"And I'm going to extend the range on your Turtle-Comm," Donatello said. "Of course, the rain was so bad today that even ours went out after Michelangelo talked to Baxter. But you probably could have gotten through earlier if the range had been stronger."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Zach said. "I guess you didn't want me to have as long a range as yours, huh?"

"It wasn't that," Donatello insisted. "We didn't think you'd need a longer range."

"But like, you sure proved us wrong, little bud," Michelangelo said.

"I guess so." Zach still seemed subdued.

The Turtles and Splinter shared a look before Michelangelo plunged ahead. "Hey, how about in a day or two we hang out and do something fun?"

Zach looked to him with a start. "You mean it?!"

"Like, sure! It can be a celebration of you coming home safe!" Michelangelo said. "We haven't seen a lot of you lately, Zach, and I guess that's our fault." He frowned. "We shoud've checked in to see how you were doing."

"That would have been nice," Zach admitted. "But I could have come to visit, too. I've been so busy with school and after-school stuff . . . and I figured you were probably busy with saving the world and . . . well, being with your other friends. . . ."

"We never meant to make you feel left-out, Zach," Leonardo said sadly. "We're really sorry."

The other Turtles nodded. "Like, seriously," Michelangelo said. "We should have realized."

"That's okay," Zach said. "You guys have a lot to think about without me."

"But you're our friend too," Donatello said.

"Not to mention our fifth Turtle," Raphael added.

"Yeah. You totally deserved better," Michelangelo said.

"So we'd really like to make it up to you," Leonardo said.

"I'd really love that," Zach said. His eyes were wide and bright.

"Great," Leonardo smiled. He hesitated. "But Zach, even though we made you an honorary Turtle and we really appreciate your help, we don't want to see you end up like us, always having to be ready to stop some new evil scheme."

"That's why we didn't give you the full range on your Turtle-Comm," Donatello said. "We hoped you wouldn't need to use the strongest range."

Michelangelo nodded. "You don't have to be an adult yet. You should enjoy being a microdude while you can. Maybe you think you wanna be an adult now, but in the future I think you'd regret not having taken the time to be a kid."

"Maybe," Zach said noncommittally. "That's kind of what Vincent was telling me. But I want to be useful. . . ."

"There are many ways you could be useful without endangering yourself," Baxter spoke.

Zach looked to him in surprise. "Really?"

Baxter nodded. "I'm sure there are programs in your community that you could become involved with."

"Yeah, there probably are." Zach hesitated. "But that wouldn't be like helping the Turtles. . . ."

Again the Turtles exchanged a look. "Maybe we can find some things for you to do to help us that wouldn't put you in danger," Leonardo said. "And of course, I'm sure every now and then there will be a time when we'll need to call on you for help in stopping the bad guys."

"You've come through with flying colors any time we needed you," Raphael said.

"That would be great, guys!" Zach exclaimed. "I really do want to keep helping."

Splinter smiled, looking pleased. He had stayed silent, wanting to let the Turtles handle it if they could, and he liked what they had done.

Now Zach shifted in his seat, looking chagrined. ". . . I guess I should tell you guys . . . I lied about my age," he mumbled.

"Aw heck, we always knew that," Michelangelo said.

"Vincent said you probably did, but . . ." Zach looked up at him. "It's really okay?"

"Sure," Michelangelo said. "You just wanted to impress us. But hey, it's even more gnarly that you helped us out so much when you were so much younger than you said."

The other Turtles and Splinter nodded. "Indeed," said Splinter.

Zach grinned big. "Thanks, you guys." When he turned to catch Vincent's eye, the computer was grinning back at him.

At that moment there was a knock on the door. Barney excused himself to answer it. Zach's family was standing there, all looking hopeful yet slightly apprehensive.

"Good evening," he greeted.

"Is Zach alright?" asked his mother.

"He's fine," Barney nodded. "He was just sitting down to a late dinner. You're welcome to join in as well, if you'd like. I cooked another pizza and there's also soup."

"Hey, thanks!" said Walt, and he hurried into the kitchen.

Vincent slowly came to the doorway, looking hesitant and uncertain.

"I doubt Zach would have made it back in as good of condition as he's in if it hadn't been for Vincent," Barney said.

"Oh." Zach's mother stepped forward, looking Vincent up and down as she clearly wondered what to make of him. "Thank you," she said at last, her voice filled with emotion.

"If you ever need anything from us, we'll do our best to come through," said Zach's father.

Vincent relaxed. "Thank you," he said. "But Zach helped me, too. I don't think I would have made it back at all if it wasn't for him. He kept me safe from the rain."

"Zach is a very resourceful, caring boy," Zach's mother said.

"Mom! Dad!" Zach came to the doorway now. "Vincent is awesome, isn't he?! He's my friend now, just like the Turtles!"

Immediately he was enveloped in hugs. "He's pretty awesome, alright," his father said.

"We were so worried!" his mother exclaimed.

"Yeah, we didn't know _what_ had happened to you," Walt said gruffly, but he looked happy too.

"I'm really sorry about that," Zach said. He looked awkward with all the hugs, but then he smiled. This was nice.

The Turtles, Splinter, and the Stockmans smiled too. Everything was as it should be.

xxxx

Eventually all of their friends, old and new, left and the Stockman brothers were left to themselves. Barney had told Baxter and Vincent that he would clean up in the kitchen and they could have some time to interact alone, but they insisted on helping, happy to all be together. When they were getting ready for bed, however, Vincent followed Baxter into his room.

"How were you holding up, Pal?" Vincent softly asked.

"It was . . . very hard," Baxter said. "I had to try to be strong for Barney's sake or I very likely would have fallen apart myself. I had already crumbled inside."

"I was worried about it being like that," Vincent said. "I hoped that you and Barney could draw strength from each other, but I guess it was too soon after uniting as a family for that. . . ."

"We were starting to try to," Baxter smiled sadly at him. "Yes, we had problems, and I eventually snapped at him, but then he apologized and we both tried harder to get along."

"I'm so glad." Vincent smiled.

"It was . . . hard, remembering when I thought you were gone in the past and fearing it had happened now." Baxter studied him. "Are you really alright, Vincent? You weren't hurt by the rain?"

"I'm just fine," Vincent asssured him. "Zach took me to a cave the first night. The second night we were in an old barn. Tonight Zach fixed that blanket around me and we were able to take the bad guys' car."

"That's wonderful," Baxter said. "Oh, the police caught them, by the way. They've confessed."

"Good to know," Vincent smirked.

Baxter hesitated, then hugged him. "Vincent . . . I'm so happy you're home," he whispered.

Vincent returned it, holding his first friend close. "I missed you so much," he said. "Barney too."

"You really do mean the world to Barney," Baxter said. "You do for me as well. I'll never forget again how much you were there for me when I needed someone so badly. And I'll never forgive myself that I forgot at all."

"You wouldn't have, if it weren't for the fly," Vincent said. "I don't blame you, Pal."

"I know," Baxter said. "But I still feel badly about it anyway."

"You were so troubled and confused," Vincent told him. "As you basically told Barney, becoming human again didn't instantly heal you. There was so much you had to work out about yourself. I was part of that, especially since what I seemed to be went against everything logic told you I _could_ be. Even after seeing me again, you still didn't fully understand. Why would you?"

"Sometimes I wonder if I understand even now," Baxter said. "But we gave strength to each other when we thought Barney was dead, and my memories of you started to come back more during that time. I'm so glad they did."

"And I'm so glad we were able to bond again, Baxter," Vincent said. "I love Barney very much, but I love you too. I would feel like half of my circuits had been ripped out if we were no longer close."

Baxter shuddered. "That would never happen," he vowed.

Vincent smiled. He knew it.

"That experiment we tried . . . why did I forget that memory?" Baxter wondered. "I remembered going to see Barney earlier that evening."

"Maybe it was the shock of being pulled into another dimension when you tried to use the formula," Vincent said. "I have to admit, I was afraid something even worse might happen, so I was relieved it was only that. But I felt so bad for you. When I realized you didn't remember any longer, I didn't press it. I felt it was better that way."

"It probably was," Baxter sighed. He paused. ". . . We also found the memories when you and Barney first met. . . ."

"Oh. Did you listen to those?" Vincent looked like he wasn't sure what to think of the news.

"Barney switched it off when he realized what it was," Baxter said. "I was curious, but I wasn't sure I felt up to listening to him rage about me. I felt sure Barney would rather I didn't hear it, too. So in the end I played some more of your space memories instead."

"That was probably for the best," Vincent agreed. "The Technodrome memories might hurt you, it's true. And they would probably dig into things Barney would rather not think about now." He paused. "But it is very moving to hear how Barney gradually softened over time."

Baxter smiled. "And how you helped him do that. Maybe someday I will want to hear those memories because of that."

"Maybe someday, Barney will even want to face them too," Vincent said. "But it's alright if he doesn't. I doubt anyone likes to revisit memories when they weren't at their best."

"I certainly don't," Baxter said. "But at the same time, I know they happened and I feel I should be brave enough to face them." He paused. "One of the people who strongly supported searching for you was one of the firefighters I mutated into a giant termite. I was stunned that he didn't hold any ill feelings towards me or you."

"That _is_ surprising," Vincent mused. "I guess there are still forgiving people in this world aside from our friends."

Baxter nodded. "It's a humbling realization. I'll want to let him know you're back safe. Of course, April wants to do a news story on it, and I suppose we really need to."

"That's true," Vincent said. "It will be important news that Zach has been found alive and well."

"And that you have been too," Baxter said. "Not to mention that you and Zach helped each other get home. April wanted to do the story tonight when we called her, but we convinced her to wait until tomorrow so that you and Zach could both rest tonight . . . and spend time with family." He smiled. "That's similar to how it was when Barney came back alive. We did the press conference the next day."

"I remember," Vincent said. "Barney didn't want to do it at all, but he went along."

"He recognized that it was probably a good idea, I think, even if he didn't want to admit it," Baxter said.

"I still wonder about all the people he met during those days," Vincent said.

"So do I," Baxter agreed. "But I hope Barney will want to share those memories with us someday. Until then, we'll just have to be patient and wait."

Vincent said, "I guess it's strange for me, knowing that he keeps those memories to himself. He talks to me about almost everything."

"I know," Baxter said. "Those experiences really were part of changing him. He was different when he came back to us." He smiled a bit. "He finally found some peace with the world and himself."

"And he desperately needed both," Vincent said.

Baxter nodded. "I'm so glad he confides in you about almost everything, Vincent. He never had someone he trusted that deeply and he needed it so much. I wish that he would feel like confiding in me more than he does, but I'm happy he does at all. It's better than he ever used to do." He managed a smile.

"You're right, Pal," Vincent said. "And I shouldn't be complaining about him keeping one thing from me, considering everything he's willing to tell me. You're kept in the dark much more and I know that's hard for you."

"I grew to accept it in the past," Baxter said. "I hope that now that we're getting closer, he will keep opening up to me more and that it's not only something he'll do when he's desperate for a listening ear."

"I'm sure he'll open up to you at other times," Vincent said. "It takes time, especially if you're an aloof and stubborn man like Barney, but he's making so much progress and he really does want to include you in his life now."

"And that's so incredible to me," Baxter said softly. "I never thought he would stop being angry at me, let alone talk to me like a normal human being." He looked at his friend. "Thank you so much for your part in giving us that gift."

"It wasn't all on me," Vincent said. "You and Barney did a lot of it yourselves. But I realize I helped Barney to thaw out and I'm so happy I was able to help. I got so many things about friendship wrong, but with Barney I finally started doing some things right."

"You always did _some_ things right," Baxter said. "But yes, because of your friendship with Barney, you learned and grew up."

"And with my age, it was about time I did," Vincent remarked.

Baxter laughed, then suddenly sobered. "Vincent . . . how long do alien computers usually live?"

Vincent smiled at him, and there was no trace of sadness. "A long time. As I told Zach, even longer when they have something to live for. If I'm left to my own devices to die of, well, natural causes, it shouldn't be something you'll have to see."

Baxter considered that. "Would you live on for a long time without us?" He frowned. He hated to think of Vincent being all alone again.

"No," Vincent said softly. He hugged Baxter close. "Everything will be alright, Pal, as long as I'm allowed to stay here after I die."

Baxter relaxed and was caught up in the embrace. It was warm, comforting. And he found himself believing Vincent. "I'm sure that you will be, Brother," he said. "God wouldn't be that cruel."

xxxx

Vincent also wanted to see Barney again. After leaving Baxter to undress for bed, he wandered to Barney's room and found his other brother just standing at the window and staring out into the night. "Barney?" he called softly.

Barney slowly turned. "I . . . wasn't sure if I was going to tell you this," he said. "I don't remember ever crying, even as a child. It just wasn't the way I expressed or released emotions. It wasn't that I didn't feel like it sometimes or even that I didn't want to. But I considered it weakness and I was trying so hard to always be strong. Then this week, I thought you were dead and the back-up was my last hope to have you back. When I tried to talk to it and it didn't understand feelings, I broke down and wept for the first time in my life."

"I'm so sorry, Barney." Vincent came into the room and over to him. "Tears aren't weakness, especially as a expression of love. But I never wanted to cause such pain."

"It's part of the package," Barney grunted. "I couldn't care about you so much without the pain coming along too."

"That's true." Vincent paused. "You said from the beginning that the back-up wouldn't be me, but I pushed to have it made. I probably shouldn't have."

"No." Barney shook his head. "Baxter was right; having your memories is important. If you ever _are_ gone, that's the only part of you we'd have left. I'm glad you encouraged me to make the back-up. I just shouldn't have been so foolish as to try to talk to it."

"It's understandable you'd try," Vincent said softly.

". . . I said I loved it . . . meaning you, of course," Barney said. "It couldn't comprehend the feeling or the idea."

"I comprehend it," Vincent said. "And I love you."

Barney relaxed. "I know," he said. "That's why you are . . . something special."

Vincent smiled, then looked sad. "The aliens from my home planet would find it concerning for me to have learned to love."

"Would they have tried to reprogram you?" Barney asked in concern.

"No," Vincent said. "Not since part of the point of having computers like me was so we could learn and grow. But they would have watched and worried, waiting for me to do something that they considered detrimental to the mission."

"And if you had?" Barney really dreaded knowing the answer, yet he had to hear it.

"I would have been put out of service unless I could prove that my way of thinking was not detrimental," Vincent said. "And with their mindset against forming close relationships, that would have been unlikely."

Barney's eyes narrowed. "It's so ironic that a non-organic being had more humanity than the organic beings."

"It is, isn't it," Vincent said.

Barney pondered a moment. ". . . I suppose if your body ever was destroyed and your soul could go into the back-up, it would then be 'on' all the time, wouldn't it?"

"I suppose," Vincent said. "Or I could certainly modify it to that effect."

"Let's just keep things as they are for now," Barney said. "There's no need to change anything unless we have to."

"Alright," Vincent agreed. "I would override the existing interaction program if I took over anyway."

"I'd hope so," Barney frowned. "It would be unsettling if you went back to square one even with your soul in the back-up, the same as some humans do after suffering something extremely traumatic and forgetting everything."

"And then only be back to as I am right now upon dying and being freed of the flawed body?" Vincent shuddered. "It should be able to be different for me."

"Then that would be one more advantage you'd have over organic beings," Barney said.

"I think you can look upon the back-up as simply what you might get if you had a soulless body that did wake up," Vincent mused. "I've heard of scenarios like that in horror productions sometimes. Maybe it could basically function, but it wouldn't be the person as you know them. It would be missing that certain something the soul brings. So once my soul would inhabit the back-up, that spark would be there and you'd have the complete being again."

"I can see that reasoning," Barney said. "I don't know what to think of it, but I hope that for organic beings at least, that type of horror scenario doesn't really happen. It was difficult enough for Baxter and Fenwick to be laying unconscious and not waking up without their souls. It would have been infinitely more disturbing had their bodies been awake and acting anything like the back-up of you did."

"It would have been," Vincent frowned.

For a moment there was silence. Then Vincent asked, "What did you do about teaching classes this week?"

Barney sighed. "I couldn't do it," he admitted. "I knew I'd have to, but I hadn't yet got the strength to buckle down and do it. Mr. Dalton wasn't happy. His assistant reminded him that I've been very reliable up to now, however, even coming in when I'm physically unwell myself."

"Something I've wished you wouldn't do," Vincent said.

"It's served us well," Barney said. "And the reminder cooled Mr. Dalton's feelings for the time being. Will you feel like going to the afternoon class tomorrow?"

"Of course," Vincent said.

Barney paused. "And if you'd like . . . maybe tomorrow night we could watch _Knight Rider._ "

Vincent's eyes lit up. "Really?"

A nod. "Really."

"I'd like that a lot," Vincent said.

"I thought you would," Barney said. "I . . . would too."

Vincent smiled. "I know you're not that interested in the series, Barney, but that means a lot to me that you're willing to try it."

"It means a lot to you," Barney said. "And I do appreciate the friendship between the characters. But most of all, I appreciate sharing that time with you. I . . . never before had anyone I wanted to spend time with. Now I have two."

Vincent beamed, happy to be included but even happier that Baxter was. "Maybe Baxter could watch with us too?" he suggested.

"If he wants to," Barney agreed.

"I think he would, for the same reason you're willing," Vincent said.

"Probably," Barney said. He turned away slightly. "Vincent . . . when did you ever see past all the twisted anger and hatred to whatever good I had in me back then? Baxter apparently saw it all along, but with him it's more understandable with his 'brother' pitch. With you . . . I still don't get it."

"It wasn't easy, Buddy," Vincent said. "In the early days, it took a lot to push back all the disgust I felt for you. But I wanted to believe Baxter wasn't wrong that you cared, and since you admitted to me that you lied to Krang to save his life, that helped me believe it was true. But I didn't understand you and there were still setbacks."

"Such as when Baxter astral-projected," Barney supplied.

"Or even when you were making the lightning stone and I misunderstood your intentions for staying with Krang to be selfish," Vincent added. "I recognized your goodness long before that, but I think it was only when I understood what you were willing to do to stop Krang's plan that I realized the full depth of your goodness and potential. And I also realized I was going to lose you." He walked around to face Barney. "I didn't know how I was going to stand that. I wanted with every part of me to stop you . . . but I couldn't. And deep down, I knew that you were right; there was no other way. But that didn't make it any easier. I first agreed to talk to you out of loneliness and sorrow, but then you really became my friend. To lose one who had become so dear was absolutely crushing. I do know what that's like, Barney, and I am so very sorry you had to experience it too. I know there were differences in the situations that made the grief different, but we still each thought we'd lost a loved one."

Barney looked at him. "And we got them back."

Vincent smiled. "Yes, we did."

Suddenly Barney looked emotional, vulnerable. "Vincent . . . if I hadn't left without you, none of this would have happened."

Vincent looked at him in surprise. "Barney, you were just doing what the caller said," he said. "They ordered you not to bring anyone, including me. You thought our students were in danger. You had to comply with the caller's wishes. Anyway, Big Louie would have been after me regardless. The way things worked out, he and his men are all in jail. Who knows what would have happened otherwise. I'm home safe, and so is Zach, and I like to think that I made a positive difference in that boy's life. We might not have met if this hadn't happened. I regret that you and Baxter and everyone else had to suffer. But I don't regret the good that came out of this."

Barney slowly nodded. "You make sense, Vincent. I'm supposed to be able to think logically; hopefully I can come to see it that way too."

"I think you can, old buddy," Vincent said. "But I understand if you can't. It would have been so horrible for you and Baxter."

"I was driving Baxter away," Barney confessed. "I didn't know how to deal with my pain and I wasn't thinking about his. He finally snapped at me; I don't know how he took it as long as he did. But he forgave me . . . _again,_ and we tried to move on from it."

"Baxter told me," Vincent said. "I'm so glad you were able to start moving on from it. You needed each other so much."

"If Baxter had left, which is of course what I deserved, I don't know what I would have done," Barney said.

"You would have still tried to go on," Vincent said. "You're not a quitter, Buddy. You never have been."

"But after having so much . . . and losing it . . . I honestly can't say I could have taken it." Barney looked at him. "I used to fool myself into thinking I had everything before, when I only had material things. Deep down I knew I didn't. It's now that I have everything."

Vincent smiled. "You sure do." He stepped closer. "And you'll never lose us, Barney, not to death or betrayal or anything else. We love you too much for that."

"I know you'll never leave me willingly," Barney said. "And that will always be incredible to me. Thank you, for coming home."

"Where else would I go?" Vincent said softly. "Where else would I _want_ to go?"

"You had the whole universe at your beck and call when Maximillian was here," Barney said. "But you didn't want to explore. You wanted to live here on Earth, with me and Baxter." He sounded awed.

"Exploring was interesting, but I was still empty inside," Vincent said. "I only found what I wanted here." He laid a hand on Barney's shoulder. "Of course I'd come home, Brother."

"Brother," Barney repeated. "My brother. . . ."

His life had always been rich with Baxter as his brother, even though he hadn't accepted it for years. Now, not only were they finally a real family, but Vincent had joined them as another brother. He thought he had lost Vincent and feared he might lose Baxter too. But he hadn't lost Baxter, and now they had Vincent again as well.

"My life is so full," he said.

"All of our lives are," said Vincent. "Now that we have each other."

Barney smiled and stood looking out at the city with Vincent. It was true; they had all enriched each other's lives. And that was something to always treasure.

"Barney? Vincent?"

They turned to see Baxter in the doorway, ready for bed. "Hi, Baxter," Vincent smiled.

"I just wanted to say Goodnight," Baxter said.

"Goodnight," Barney returned. He hesitated. "Baxter . . . I never could have made it through these days without you."

"I feel the same about you, Barney," Baxter said. "We buoyed each other up."

"I . . ." Barney hesitated again, shifting his weight. "It will seem strange in this house without you," he finally continued, his voice gruff.

Vincent stared, his eyes wide with surprise and hope.

Baxter also looked surprised. "Barney . . . ?"

"Just keep coming over whenever you feel like it," Barney said. "And staying as long as you want to. Even . . . indefinitely."

Now Baxter's eyes widened. "Barney . . ." He smiled. "I'd be so happy to."

"It always should have been your house too," Barney growled. "That was why it always felt so empty. I wasn't sharing it with my brother."

Vincent was overjoyed. "We'll all be together now, for always!"

Baxter came into the room. "I never expected this. . . ."

Vincent laid a hand on each brother's shoulder. "I've wanted it for so long."

"And I have too," Barney admitted. "I was afraid to ask. But after what we've just come through, I didn't want to put it off any longer. I know there will still be problems, but now I believe we can push our way through them. I want both my brothers living here." He gripped Baxter's other shoulder.

"I'm so happy," Baxter said softly. He reached and pulled Barney and Vincent into an embrace. "My brothers. . . ."

They embraced him whole-heartedly. Indeed, this was the way it should be-their family united, no matter what came at them.


End file.
